The Hunt
by marinenerd01
Summary: A young man's desire for adventure is met in ways he could never imagine.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: I do not own Warhammer that belongs to games workshop. I do however own the main character, I hope you like him. Please review and may Jesus bless you.**

Cursing Karl Richter ran home as fast as his legs could carry him. He had just meant to get away from his grandfather and his fits of temper for a while and he had fallen asleep by the river. He should have been back to work at his grandfather's mill hours ago and now he was going to get it.

Bursting from the trees into the fields surrounding the village he continued to run until he reached the stockade that surrounded it. The passage of time and lack of upkeep had worn away at it and he was able to slip through a gap between two of the logs. From there he had only a short way to go to the mill. His grandfather was already there, of course, and was scowling ferociously as he came in. He was old and a good deal shorter than Karl's own six feet and he lacked his broad build but he, like Karl, had been made very strong by years of working at the mill.

"Where have you been you worthless lout? You think this wheat is going to grind itself? What did I ever do to deserve such a worthless grandson! You're as worthless as your father was, always dreaming instead of doing decant work. Went off to be a traveling entertainer with that whore of a mother he did. Well look where that got them, killed. Throats cut in some dung heap of a town and me saddled with you."

Karl had heard the rant all before but it still made his blood boil. He hated it when the parents he barely remembered where slandered like that. But as much as he hated his grandfather he still feared him. He had feared him since as long as he could remember. Even now, at nineteen and as big as he was he still felt like the small boy had been when he first came and learned to cower in the corner from his grandfather's wrath. He hated his grandfather and longed to leave him but he could not. Where would he go? He had no money and he knew nothing of the world beyond a few mile radius of the village. No he was trapped here with the old tyrant.

The rest of the day went the same as always. When the day ended his grandfather went to the tavern to drink away a good part of the day's earnings. Normally Karl would have gone to the tavern to hear Old Brome's stories. Brome had served in a halberdier regiment and always had tales of battles and far off places. But, his grandfather being there killed any desire to there. Instead he went home and grabbed some bread and cheese and slipped out of the village and went to his secret place by the river and ate his meal.

He hated this place. He wanted to travel, to see the world beyond the village and the stifling heat of the mill, and get as far away from his grandfather as possible. Many times he had thought of just taking off but each time he had hesitated. He had no idea where he would go or even how far away the next village was. He had no money and no reason for any of the occasional caravans that came through to take him. No, he was stuck here with his grandfather until the old man died and then he would take over the mill till he died, doubtless as old and bitter as his grandfather was now.

Sighing, he got to his feet it was nearly dark and he needed to get home. It would be completely dark by the time he got home, but at least his grandfather should still be at the tavern for some time yet till he stumbled home drunk and passed out in his own room. At least he would be spared having to listen to him until tomorrow.

Just then he heard something. It was coming from the trees near where he was standing, it sounded as if something large was moving about in them, something large and headed in his direction. "Hello, is anyone there?" There was no answer to his call but the noise was definitely headed his way and seemed to have picked up speed. Gripped by sudden fear Karl began to back away, but it was to late. A great shape burst from the trees and bore him to the ground. In the fading light he could not see it clearly, just a great dark bulk and bright red eyes. If could not see it well he could feel quite well as its hairy body was pressed against him and he could feel its hot breath. He could especially feel its claws as they tore into both his arms as the thing sought to pin him to the ground.

Struggle as hard as he could Karl's strength was no match for the creature. Terror gave birth to a desperate plan, with a scream of pain he tore his right arm free, shredding his arm in the presses and sent it crashing into what he thought was the things nose. It let out a howl of pain, both of its hands flying to its face. Karl rolled onto his belly and tried to crawl away on his hands and knees. Just then one of the creature's paws/hands shot out and latched onto his left leg and dragged him back. Karl screamed as he felt teeth tearing into his leg so deep he could swear he heard the jaws click together. In desperation he flailed about with his right leg and aught the thing in the chest. It felt like he was kicking a wall and from his position it did not have a lot of power behind it but again the creature howled in pain and released him. His mind all but gone in pain and fear Karl dragged himself toward his only hope of safety and threw himself into the river.

**Authors Notes: Well there it is the first chapter I know it was a bit short and on the choppy side but I will hopefully do better with the next. Please review but no flames please. Have a good day and may Jesus bless you. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: I do not own Warhammer that belongs to games workshop.**

It was completelydark when he came to. His head swam, his body ached and he felt like he was going to his stomach. Where was he? He could not remember and trying to remember hurt too much. Looking around he saw that he was on the small bank near the village where the children like to go swimming. Had he been swimming? That did not make sense, it was the middle of the night and nobody went swimming after dark. He had to get home, his grandfather would be very angry if he overslept in the morning. Getting out of the water he tried to hurry but he still felt queasy and everything seemed to spin so he stumbled about all the way home. He finally made it home and somehow managed to get to his bed without waking his grandfather.

"Get up you worthless lout!" The shout caused Karl to jerk awake with a start. His head still hurt and he still felt woozy and sick, but he knew if he said anything it would only invite more yelling and perhaps even a beating. Getting up he started to peel off the soiled and torn cloths that he had fallen asleep in. Strangely, though he could not remember how it happened his cloths were slashed and torn and stained with what looked like blood. Looking down at his body he saw that his skin was shiny pink and itching in patches on his arms, chest and legs. Looking at them caused memories to stir in the back of his mind but he could not bring them into focus. Shaking his head he put on other clothes and headed toward the mill.

The day seemed to last forever. He felt sick all day and for some reason he began to feel increasingly hungry. He also began to feel tense and restive; he wanted to run, to fight, to do something. He even snapped back at his grandfather, something he normally would never do. That earned him several blows and he had to fight down a near overwhelming urge to jump him and beat him back.

The night brought no relief, if anything things seemed to get worse. The pain and feeling of sickness seemed to get worse. In addition he began to feel new pain. His bones began to ache, like when he had gone through only this was far worse, he felt like his bones were breaking all at once and his body felt like it was burning up. He could not think, the room was spinning and it seemed like a reddish mist was covering his eyes and there was a roaring in his head that kept getting louder and louder drowning out everything else then everything went blank.

Wakefulness slowly returned to him the next morning. Slowly Karl opened his eyes. His bones had cease to ache and the hunger and fever were gone, new sensations took their place. His muscles were sore as if they had been worked really hard and his stomach felt so full he felt a stomach ache coming on. Then he opened my eyes and saw a scene of horror.

He was lying on the floor of his grandfather's bedroom; he was completely naked and covered in blood. A quick frantic search of his body showed no wounds. Looking around he found that there was blood everywhere; on the floor, on the wall, and especially on the bed. As he looked at the bed he saw to his horror that there was more than blood on the bed; at first he did not realize what it was, it was to mangled, then he realized it was his grandfather. The body was torn and mangled so badly that it was nearly impossible to see that it had been human. Karl scrambled to his feet backing away from the ruin that had once been his grandfather. What happened last night? He could not remember. Why was he naked, what killed his grandfather, and was it still here?

Feeling things caught in his teeth he reached into his mouth and pulled something from between his teeth, it was a piece of bloody flesh. With a sick feeling of horror he realized that he must have done it, he had killed and, his stomach nearly heaved at the thought, eaten his grandfather. What was happening to him? He remembered hearing stories of mutants and ghouls who attacked and fed on people but he was not one of those, was he? He looked over himself again and he did not see anything that looked like mutation but did that prove anything, he heard that sometimes the mutation was on the inside. Memories kept floating in his mind but he still could not focus them. He had to think, but he was too sick with disgust, shame and fear to focus his mind. What was he going to do, what was he going to say to people, and what were these memories that he could not remember?

His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the door. "Maxwell, where are you, the mill was closed and people heard strange noise coming from your house last night. What is going on, open the door I say!" Panic flooded Karl like a gallon of cold water pouring down his entire body. He had to get away; people would never believe that he had not meant to kill his grandfather. Kill them, kill them all. The impulse hit him suddenly and it scared him almost as much as the prospect of being discovered. He had never been a violent person, and this sudden urge seemed to him like more evidence that something was wrong with him

The sound of the door being forced open brought Karl back to the present and raised his panic to a whole new level. Acting on instinct he bolted. Shooting out of the back door he ran toward the whole in the stockade. If he had not been so frightened he would have marveled at how much faster than usual he was running, urged on by the cries of shock that he heard from his house. Soon cries could be heard behind him "Stop him! Catch him! Murderer!" Everywhere he looked people were closing in on him, faces contorted grotesquely in fear and rage. Surrounded, he turned toward the town gate, which was already open. Several men blocked his way but with strength he had never had before he grabbed one in each hand threw them to the sides with such force they left the ground. The way cleared he ran toward the gate and escape several men on horses rode into the village. They mostly looked like bandits or mercenaries in battered leather armor. The exceptions were the two in front, one wore plate armor and the shaved head of a priest, confirmed by the massive war hammer hanging from his saddle. The other wore fine cloths that would not have been out of place on a noble, except for his hat on which was a golden emblem of the twin tailed comet. A witch hunter! Even in this remote village Karl knew of those grim hunters. Turning to the side he tried to run past them but they moved to block his way, then the priest swung his hammer striking him on the head and everything went black.

Pain brought him back to consciousness some time later. His head hurt from the blow but it was not that which had woken him. That pain came from his wrists, looking down he saw that he was wearing manacles which were attached by a chain to a post. They seemed to have spikes on the inside that were digging into his flesh. It felt like they were freezing and burning him at the same time. "Don't like it do you filth," said a cultured voice "Those spikes are made of blessed silver, harmful to creatures of darkness like you."

Turning he saw the witch hunter coming into what appeared to be the village grain storage, empty now awaiting the harvest. The man continued, "We were traveling on another matter and we came to his collection of hovels to gather supplies and low and behold we find another monster running right into our laps. So tell me, how long have you consorted with the forces of darkness?"

"No!" Screamed Karl in a panic, "I… I have never consorted with darkness!"

"Liar!" Bellowed the witch hunter; "The evidence is clear for all to see by the fact that you ran. If you were innocent than you would not have tried to run, your actions condemn you! Normally," He continued in a calmer tone, " There would have to be the formality of a trial but as I am in a hurry and your guilt is evident we can just skip to the burning and be done with it. I will leave you till morning to consider your fate. If you choose to confess your death will be swift and prays said for your soul. If you do not, then you shall burn, in this world and the next." So saying he turned and left Karl in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Notes: Still do not own anything. Be warned this chapter is a bit on the gory side. **

Karl did not know how long he sat there, no one came to see him and there were no windows. He felt woozy and sick from the silver, which continued to burn his wrists. Then he felt the pain that had felt the night before, his bones breaking and his skin stretching and the roaring in his head. But tonight was different. The pain was not as intense as before, it almost seemed that something was force his bones to stay together and his skin to stay in place, even the roaring was not as overwhelming. The increased sensation of burning coming from his wrists gave him a good idea why. While all the pain caused by the manacles was unwanted at least he was able to maintain control because of them.

The commotion outside distracted him. There were the sounds of voices raised in fear, the clash of arms and bellows in deep guttural voices. What was going on? Karl did not know but he had to find out, the sounds were getting louder and closer. Frantically he pulled on the chain connecting his manacles to the post. Each jerk caused fresh ways of pain to shoot through his arms but he kept at it. Finally, with a strength he never knew he had he gave a final heave and the chain burst.

Just then the door burst open and the witch hunter literally flew into the room, his flight caused by a blow from the creature that came in after him. It stood over six feet tall it would have stood taller but it walked in a stooped manner. Even though he had never seen one before Karl knew at once what it was an orc, its green skin unmistakable. It looked from the witch hunter, who was obviously dead, to Karl and smiled a horrible smile and started toward him.

Part of Karl wanted to back away in fear from the horrible creature, but another part did not. The part that had been with him since the half-remembered night wanted to attack this thing, to kill it before it could kill him. With a cry that was half a scream of terror and half a beast-like cry of challenge he threw himself at the orc. The creature was taken off guard by the attack, obviously not expecting any resistance. Karl bore the orc to the ground; he straddled the orc, and began to flail the brute's head with the length of chain still hanging from his wrists. The orc's head was soon a bloody deformed mess; all fear gone now, drowned in a tide of euphoria, Karl threw back his head and howled in triumph.

Lowering his head he turned to look at the body of the witch hunter, fighting down the urge to tear the body shreds he moved over to the body and after a brief search he found what he was looking for, a ring of keys on his belt. It took a bit of effort but he managed to get the key into the lock and undo his manacles. Grimacing in pain he pulled the spikes out of his skin, it turned out the spikes were serrated as well. As soon as they were gone he felt the roaring increase in volume as did the feelings of stretching and breaking. But something, most likely the lingering effects of the silver seemed to cause it all to happen slower and he was still able to focus, though with increasing difficulty. He howled again this time in agony as his whole body seemed to change. He felt his bones stretched, break, and reform, and his body swell and grow. He felt the blackness swirling up to smother him as it had before. Determined not to let that happened again he reached for the discarded manacles. As he reached for them, they seemed to be farther away then he remembered, he was shocked to see that his arm was now covered in black fur and his fingers were tipped with claws as long as a dagger blade. Grabbing the manacles he raked it up and down his arm. The pain was intense but the howling and blackness receded somewhat and he was able to stay focused.

Rising to his feet he headed out the door, he now had to stoop to fit. He was momentarily stunned, his senses overwhelmed. His eyes could see better and sharper than ever and his nose was filled with scents, many he had never smelled before, and he was almost deafened by all the noises assaulting his ears. Then there was what was going on in front of him, it was chaos. Orcs were everywhere and villagers were running in screaming in all directions. He looked just in time to see old Brome, two dead orcs at his feet, swing his halberd and decapitate a third. As the creature fell another ran up and thrust a spear into Brome's back with such force it burst through his chest.

Karl loosed a roar that had nothing human in it and charged. The orc saw him coming and began to emit and a new smell that Karl recognized, though he did not know how, as fear and it drove him nearly out of his mind in excitement at the feeling of power the smell invoked in him. He sprang forward and lashed out. With his right hand he tore the orc's stomach open and with his left he tore the front of its face off. As the orc fell Karl looked about, eager for more, he did not have to look long. Everywhere he looked villagers were either dying or fighting in small groups, here and there he saw the witch hunter's men fighting alongside the villagers. Off near the village temple he saw the priest that had accompanied him herding the village children out of it, its roof on fire. Before they got very far several orcs came out of an ally and headed toward them. The priest placed himself between them and the children. As Karl ran toward them, unconsciously dropping down to run on all fours, the orcs reached them.

The priest parried the blow with his hammer and with a single blow crushed his opponents head. Two more came at him and attacked him simultaneously. The priest blocked the one the left with the haft of his hammer and ducked under the blow from the one on the right. Its blade continued on and struck the orc on the left. That one turned and knocked the offender to the ground. The priest took the opportunity and slammed his weapon into its stomach, when it doubled over he struck it on the back of the neck with such force he almost beheaded it. Unfortunately for him the other orc clambered to its feet and struck the priest on the shoulder. The man dropped his hammer and clutched at his shoulder with a cry of pain. Laughing the orc swung again and the priest's head flew from his shoulders. With another laugh the orc turned toward the frightened children.

Before it could act Karl reached it. Standing up on his legs again he reached out grabbed the top of the orc's head and pulled it back and down. He leaned down and tore the orc's throat out with his teeth. Letting the body drop to the ground he turned back to the children and was stunned to see them backing away, looks of terror on the faces, and then he remembered he wasn't human anymore. "Get away monster!" Cried one then they all turned and ran. He went after then trying to reassure them but as only animal sounds came from his throat it only seemed to make things worse. They ran back into the temple, just then the roof collapsed. Karl tried to go to them but the flames were too intense and he was forced back, the screams were brief but heart wrenching.

Karl through back his head and howled in grief. As he fell silent he realized that the village had gone quiet, turning he saw that fighting seemed to have stopped. Everywhere he looked he saw the bodies of the villagers and orcs mingled together, the chaos and noise of battle replaced with a quiet that was almost as terrifying. Then he heard footsteps approaching him. Turning towards the sound he saw a band of orcs, about a dozen coming toward him. In the middle was one that stood a full head and shoulders above the others and was bettered armored in a shirt of rusty chainmail. It looked at him and laughed. "Yous fights good wolfy-boy! But I's about to gut youz and make ya pelt a cloak!" Karl's eyes blazed with hate and the beast inside him roared. This thing was the leader, he had brought them here, and he was why all the people were dead.

He rushed forward, wanting to tear it limb from limb. But the orc hand anticipated this and shifted so only his side, covered by his shield, was facing Karl. Karl slammed into it, forcing the orc back but was unable to break past it to get at the orc. It for its part swung partially around to position himself to deliver a blow from his blade. Fortunately his blow was high and took Karl in the ribs rather than in the stomach, it still carried enough force to go half way through several ribs. Karl wailed in pain as the orc tugged and twisted the blade trying to work it free. It finally drew back his shield and bashed it into Karl, knocking him to the ground and freeing the blade.

Karl crashed to the ground, from there he rolled onto his stomach and slashed at the orc's legs drawing lines of blood. The orc screeched and jumped back then lashed out in a savage kick which caught Karl in the same place the blade had, causing several of the damaged ribs to break entirely. Karl blanked out for a moment then forced down the pain and tried to get to his feet. Before he could however the orc brought his blade down on his left shoulder, almost severing the arm and rendering it useless. Karl made a sound that almost sounded like crying, in desperation he lunged forward and bit at the orcs groin. It twisted away at the last moment and Karl's teeth sank into its inner thigh.

The orc squealed and jerked away, leaving Karl with a mouthful of its flesh. Karl took the opportunity to get to his feet and charged, he planned this time as he closed with the orc, he twisted so his injured left side slammed into to shield, driving the orc back against the side of a building and pinning the shield against the orc's body. While with his right arm he grabbed the orc's weapon arm, rendering it useless. Before the stunned orc could react to this Karl shot his head forward and bit down on the orc's head. The orc screamed and twisted his head from side to side but all that accomplished was to shred the skin on the sides of its head, including part of its left ear.

It felt like he was biting a block of stone but Karl held on and continued to pull back. Muscles in his neck burned like fire but he stubbornly help on. Finally, almost simultaneously, the skull collapsed in with the sound of a loud crack and the head tore loose from the neck.

Releasing it Karl turned to face the others. There was no way he could fight them but he snarled at them in defiance anyway, though to him it sounded little better than a whimper. But to his amazement they seemed to have lost all desire to fight with the death of their leader. They turned and fled in all directions. Karl had no desire to give chase and no strength to do so even if he had wanted to. With the adrenalin of the fight leaving the pain and weariness rushed in forcing him to the ground. He lay there panting like a dog for several minutes till blissful oblivion took him, while all around him the village burned.

**Authors Notes: Well another chapter done. I hope you all liked it. To visualize Karl in his other form think the werewolf from the movie **_**Van Hellsing**_**, but I include a tail with mine. Please review especially about the fights if you think they need work. Will try to update soon, bye for now and may Jesus bless you all. Oh, to answer Kit, your gander was right, it is in Fantasy version. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: Still don't own anything**

The heat of the sun on his face woke Karl the next morning. Stirring stiffly he rose to his feet and looked around. The fires had mostly died out or were in the process of doing so. The dead still lay were they had fallen and the carrion birds were at work upon them. This, combined with the stench of decaying flesh, created a most grim scene.

To take his mind off of his surroundings he glanced down at his naked body. After yesterday he was not surprised to see that his wounds were already well on their way to healing. His ribs were still sore, but at the same time; they, as well as the bone in his left shoulder, were giving off a tingling feeling as they knitted themselves back together. His cuts and scrapes were already gone and the flesh on his left shoulder was pink and new. Most visible were the marks made on his wrists and arm by the silver and even these were beginning to fade, albeit more slowly than the others.

Before he did anything else Karl decided he needed food and clothes. He went back to his grandfather's house, where thankfully both the body had been removed and it appeared to have survived the fire. He went to his room and put on some clothing then went to the kitchen and helped himself to bread and sausage.

As he ate he mulled over his options. Obviously he could not stay here, but where was he to go? Since coming here he had never traveled as much as a mile from the village, he did not even know how far the next town or village was. He knew when merchants and peddlers came through they usually said they were going to Strousenburg but he had no idea how long it took to get there, and even if he could get there what then he was a monster now everyone knew that.

Then it a thought occurred to, causing him to stop in the midst of chewing. Yes everyone in the village knew that he was a monster, and they were all dead, as was the witch hunter and his party everyone, in fact, who knew his secret. He could go anywhere and nobody would know. The idea was both terrifying and exciting at the same time. He had always wanted to see the world and now he had no choice but to do so, everything he had ever known was gone. He now had to make his own way in the world. He felt exhilarated and strangely weightless at the same time.

But first things first, the dead had to be seen to; he could not just leave them to rot like carrion. He grabbed a shovel and got to work. It took him all that morning digging oversized graves and putting as many bodies as he could in each before starting the next one. It did not help that the graveyard was to small and he was no priest of Morr to consecrate earth to the Dream Lord. He could not bury all of the villagers, some he could only find parts of; some, like the children in the temple, were nothing but ash. Even so it was hard work and many times he almost gave up, but he pressed on. He told himself it was for the dead and it was in part, but that was not all there was to it. Though he was still excited at the prospect of travel and the wider world now that it was actually time to venture forth he had a feeling of uneasiness at the thought of all that unknown and a sudden urge to stay where things were at least familiar. So now that the time had come he found himself looking for reasons to delay setting off. Also his enthusiasm was dimmed, not only by the physical labor of burying the townspeople, but also by the grief that he felt as he looked on the people he buried. Some he only knew by sight but others had been his friends and all had been links to his now destroyed past.

Finally, about two hours after noon, the task was done. The villagers and the witch hunting party were all buried and Karl had mumbled some half-remembered prays to Sigmar and Morr. The orc dead he left to either rot or feed the carrion. Exhausted both physically and mentally he decided the best course of action would be to gather supplies together, spend a final night in the village, and the set out for Strousenburg the next morning. He gathered all the food in his grandfather's house and selected the food that he thought would be best for travel as well as some of his cloths and all the money he could find. He then went and searched the buildings that were still standing. He felt guilty but his need was great he offered up a prayer to Ranald hopefully making it up to the gods for his actions. He also looked for weapons, he had never actually used one but he was reasonably certain he would need one. The witch hunter and his men were all armed but he was unwilling to risk angering the gods more by robbing the dead. In the end his search yielded enough food to last him at least a week if he were careful. A real stroke of luck was the old pack Brome had saved from his soldier days. Into this Karl placed his cloths food, tinder box, blankets and the other items he had salvaged.

Of money he had rather less success, the villagers mainly bartered among each other and most coins came from travelers passing through. Most of the money had been found in the remains of the half-burned inn. All in all, he had eight silver shillings and seventy brass pennies. It was more money than he had ever seen in his life, but he had a feeling it would not last long when he was back amongst men. For weapons he armed himself with a dagger he found at Brome's house and a sturdy club he found at the inn. After some thought he reluctantly retrieved the manacles and placed them in the pack as well.

That night he sat on the floor of his room, manacles in his hand, and waited for the change to come. He waited a long time but the change never came. He did not understand it had come every night since that night that was still hazy in his mind, did this mean it came and went? Was it random, or did it follow a pattern he did not know, and that was troubling. On the one hand this was good as he would not have to hide and risk discovery every night. But on the other hand if it just came and went then he ran it could happen when he was with people and he would be found out. Worried about the future, but confident that it would not happen tonight, he finally allowed himself to sleep.

He arose shortly after sunrise. Too nervous to eat he grabbed the pack, slung it on his shoulders and headed out. About one mile out he turned and looked back at the one home he had ever known, the he turned and headed forward. He did not look back again.

**Authors Notes: Well another chapter finished, thanks for the reviews and please keep them coming. I am not sure how some of this chapter went so please let me know if I brushed over his feelings too much. I did not want him either grieving for ever or appearing unfeeling let me know please how you thought I handled it. Most of you know this but for those who do not. Sigmar: main god of the Empire, Morr: god of death and dreams and Ranald: god of thieves. See you all next time and may Jesus bless you.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: I still don't own anything.**

Karl arrived at Strousenburg shortly before dawn four days after setting out from his village. He was tired halving walked through the night. He had spent every night siting with the shackles waiting for the change to come again but it never did; it was starting to really worry him, the longer it did not come the greater the chance that he would get careless and it would catch him off guard. So the waiting had become a nightly ritual for him, only going to sleep when he was sure that the change would not come that night.

He had seen other people on the road but he had avoided them. At first he was concerned he might change and attack, or at least be seen, but there were other reasons as well. He was obviously neither a hunter nor a traveling peddler. A person like him travelling alone would attract questions, questions he did not want to answer. The last two days he had seen more people as well as farms and other signs that he was approaching Strousenburg. He was glad to be here, he was quite tired of the road. There were a few things that Brome had left out of his stories. For example, he had failed to mention that four days of constant walking tended to make feet sore and produce blisters, which where annoying and hurt when they burst. He had also failed to inform him that the ground was rather harder than his old bed and one tossed and turned for quite some time before finally falling asleep.

On the other hand, he found himself rather nervous about entering the town. What was he going to do when he got in there? He did not know anyone and he had no skills besides that of miller, and of course there was the little problem of his changing into a monster every now and again.

He was distracted from these thoughts by the sound of the gates opening. He rose and squared his shoulders; forcing his worries to the back of his mind, he had not come all this way to be stopped by nerves. With renewed confidence he headed toward the gate.

He stared around him in amazement. He had known that his village was small but Strousenburg seemed enormous. The entirety of his village could have fit into one part of this place and have room to spare. His senses, all of which he found were markedly better now than they had been before, were overwhelmed by the sights, scents and smells. The temple of Sigmar was made of stone; he had never seen a building made of stone. An over there was a building that was three stories tall, how did a building so tall not fall down?

As he stood there wondering he heard a chuckle behind him. Turning he saw a man standing a few paces behind him was a man of about middle years. He was a good deal shorter than Karl but was dressed far better in a doublet of burgundy trimmed with gold lace. He was wearing hose of a dark color and he wore highly polished black boots. But it was his hat that grabbed Karl's attention. It was a massive affair of dark red with a gold band, but what really fascinated Karl was the massive feather of green and blue that was tucked into the band.

"Yes it is quite magnificent is it not?" The man asked proudly brushing his hand against the hat. Karl thought it rather ridiculous but he nodded politely, feeling a little nervous to be the focus of attention of someone of obvious wealth and doubtless prominence. The man stood there for a while saying nothing; just looking at Karl, rather in the way a farmer might look at a cow or pig he was considering buying. It made Karl want to growl in annoyance but something about the man made him hold back any angry remarks he was tempted to make.

"Indeed mein herr it is a fine hat."

"Quite." Said the man obviously pleased with the compliment. "If you don't me saying so you man this appears to be your first time in Strousenburg. At least if the gapping of your mouth is any indication." He said with a smirk. Karl's embarrassment and anger flared and he was about to take a step toward the man when he saw two men who were obviously members of the city watch coming around the corner. The last thing he wanted was a fight with them so he held himself in check.

"Yes, this is my first time here. Do you live here sir?"

"Me, live here?" The man said, affecting a horrified voice. "Sigmar save me no. I am Ludwig Marx of Altdorf, and I only come here because…STOP DAMN YOU!" This last bit had been yelled at a boy of about twelve who had run up and grabbed Ludwig's purse and took off down an alley. Without thinking Karl took off after him. The boy was fast and obviously knew his way around; but Karl was faster now then he had ever been and it seemed that everything but his prey seemed to fade into the background. 'Prey, where had that come from?' Karl wondered briefly but the thrill of the chase soon pushed the thought away. The boy dropped down and crawled under a cart that blocked the other end of the alley, but Karl jumped over the cart and tackled the boy. He wrenched the purse away from the boy and held the boy till the two guardsmen caught up with them.

"Well, that was well done." Said Marx as Karl handed his purse back to him. "You know, you seem a capable young man. As I was saying, before we were so rudely interrupted, I am from Altdof and the only reason I am in this glorified coaching inn is because I am passing through on my way back. Regardless, as I was saying, you seem a capable sort and I was wondering if you would care to sign on with me. I could use a bodyguard to make sure those rouges in the caravan don't steal my goods or rob me blind."

Karl was stunned silent for a moment. He did not like Marx but on the other hand he nothing else to do and a job meant money and he needed that. There was the risk that he would be discovered but that would be true anywhere. Besides, it might be exciting and get him all the way to Altdorf, the capitol of the Empire, and said to be the greatest city in the world.

"Yes, I'll do it, but I don't have a sword."

"Splendid, splendid." Said Marx with a smile. "As for a sword think nothing of it. I doubt that we'll have any trouble along the way. You'll be just be there to protect me and my goods from the others in the caravan. So that's settled then we better hurry or they will leave without us."

**Author's Note: Well another chapter down. A bit shorter this time I'll admit. Don't worry next time we'll be back to a nice helping of blood and death. For now goodbye and may Jesus bless you all.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone sorry I haven't written in a while I have been working on another story of mine. Well I am back now so enjoy.**

At first the journey to Altdorf was uneventful. Karl and Marx were traveling as part of a caravan that consisted of about a score of merchants and their servants as well as about fifteen guards. They met the rest of the caravan on the road just outside of the town gates; it was there that they met the third member of their group, Wilhelm, Marx's servant. Wilhelm was a youth about Karl's age, but much shorter and slimmer. He had light brown hair and features that could be considered androgynous. He greeted Marx respectfully but gave Karl a look that gave him the impression that the smaller boy was looking down his nose at him. Karl instantly did not like him. It was not just the look the other boy was giving him, nor was it the boy's obvious sense of superiority. No, there was also something else; a feeling of wrongness was coming off him. The same feeling, now that he thought about it, that was coming off of Marx as well.

"Now, now;" Said Marx in cheery tone that sounded a bit forced, "Let us all be civil to each other. Wilhelm, this is Karl, a fine strapping fellow who has graciously agreed to accompany us to Altdorf and see to my physical wellbeing; and this is Wilhelm who is here to see to my physical comfort." He ended this statement with a hearty laugh. Wilhelm signed and gave a slight roll of his eyes, Karl kept his expression impassive.

A few days later Karl saw one of the men from the caravan rifling through the cart that contained Marx's goods. He slipped up and brought his club down on the man's hand. The man gave a yelp and ran off. Marx praised him for spotting the thief; Wilhelm just muttered something about guard dogs.

They were on the road for almost three weeks before Marx announced when they stopped for the evening that they would reach Altdorf before sundown the next day. Karl wasn't surprised; he had seen the signs that they were approaching a city; the thinning of the trees and their passing increasing numbers of other people. Still, he was excited; he was going to see Altdorf, the capital of the Empire and the greatest city in the world! He smiled at the thought. He had always wanted to see a big city and now he was going to see the biggest of them all! His smile faltered when he saw Wilhelm looking at him with his usual condescending smirk.

Annoyed Karl got up and walked outside the camp. He walked about hoping the night air would cool his temper. Sigmar! That little runt got to him and he did not know why, he had done nothing to the boy and yet he seemed to enjoy aggravating him. Forget about him; Karl told himself. This time tomorrow you'll be in Altdorf, you'll have the money Marx promised you and you will never have to see that annoying little s/he again.

Just as he was heading back into the camp the wind shifted and he caught the scent. It was an odd sickly sweet scent and for some reason it set his teeth on edge. Turning around he sniffed at the air trying to locate its source. He found himself looking at a clump of trees about a hundred yards away from where he was standing. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the trees. There! Amid the trees he saw shapes moving about; starting to come closer to the camp, and in the light of the near-full moon he saw the glint of moonlight on metal.

"Who goes there?" He called at the approaching figures, who responded by breaking into a run towards him. Karl turned and ran back the way he had come, "To arms!" He yelled as he ran back to the camp. "To arms!"

His cries had alerted the others, several of whom came to see what he was yelling about. Upon seeing the approaching figures they too took up the cry and the whole camp was soon in an uproar. Guards snatched up weapons and turned to face the attackers, while merchants, servants and drivers took refuge under the wagons. Karl stationed himself next to Marx's wagon, under which Marx, Wilhelm and their driver cowered, and drew his dagger and club.

He did not have to wait long. With a great cry the attackers fell upon them. He did not know how many there were but he thought they outnumbered the defenders. Two of them came at him; men who could be twins and who smelled bizarrely of perfume. The one on the right was slightly ahead of the one on the left so Karl went for him first. He went in low and to the side and swung his club in a blow that shattered the man's knee. The man gave a cry, but it was one more of delight than pain. Karl had no time to think on this as the other man was approaching fast. Karl swung to face him as the man brought a short sword down in an overhead chop. Karl brought his club up and caught the blade as it began its decent. The blade cut into the wooden club but it didn't have sufficient momentum to cut through it. As the man struggled to free his blade Karl stepped in and thrust his dagger into the man's throat.

As he freed his blade he heard a grunt behind, turning he saw the first man, who had evidently been trying to rise, slump to the ground blood pouring from a wound to his back. Karl looked around confused, who had struck the blow? He hadn't and he didn't see any of the other guards near where he was. His musings were interrupted by a roar behind him. Turning he had to backpedal to avoid being struck by a massive blacksmith's hammer wielded by a large man built like a blacksmith and completely hairless and shirtless. The man swung again, this time grazing Karl and causing him to fall to the ground, his weapons falling from his hands. The man brought the hammer down and Karl had to roll to the side to avoid it.

Karl cursed and then he heard the roaring in his head again. How dare this thing, this prey threaten him. He did not feel any fear, either of the man or of discovery. It vanished under the roaring and the sudden rush of adrenalin he felt. He looked into the man's eyes; everything else, both sights and sounds fading, and was thrilled to see fear. He sprang to his feet and lunged. His right arm shot out and grabbed the hammer as the man tried frantically to swing it again. As he grabbed it Karl noted that his arm bulged with new muscles; indeed he noted that his entire body was swelling and straining against his cloths. Additionally; he saw that his finger nails were now claws several inches long. He twisted the hammer to the side and brought his left hand in for blow so hard he heard the man's skull crack. Karl lunged forward and bite out the man's throat. As the man fell to the ground Karl began to relax, noting as he did so that the sounds of the battle were beginning to die down.

He suddenly remembered he was not alone. He had to hide what he had done; his struggle had taken him away from the wagon and so he did not think anyone had seen what he had done, but he had to hide the evidence. Snatching up the hammer in one hand he wiped his mouth on his sleeve to get the blood off. Standing over the man he brought the hammer down on the man's head again and again. The massive hammer soon reduced the man's head and neck to a pulp; obliterating the teeth marks, as well as getting blood on both his sleeves to mingle with the blood he had wiped from his mouth.

"Oy lad, I think you got that one." Said Olaf, the head guard of the caravan. Turning Karl saw that all the other fighting had ended and several of the men were staring at him.

"Aye," Agreed Karl; trying to make his voice shake so they would put down his behavior to fear and exitement from his first fight, "I think I did."

**Author's Notes: Well, another chapter down. Thanks for waiting; I will try to get the next update sooner. Goodbye for now and I would please ask all who are reading this to please pray for the victims of the Boston attack. Thank you and may Jesus bless you all.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone, sorry I have not updated in a while. I still own only the characters I create.**

They were delayed by caring for the wounded and the dead so they did not arrive at Altdorf till after noon a day later than when they were supposed to. Remarkably only two men had died in the attack; they had both worked as guards for the same merchant who took their bodies to a nearby temple of Morr.

The caravan went to a warehouse district near the city walls. There men began unloading the wagons and the guards were paid off. Marx paid Karl the money that he promised and even threw in a few extra silver coins as a bonus. "You know;" said Marx, "You are a very useful young man. I think we could do some more business together. I'll be staying at the Golden Unicorn Inn not far from here. Go there after sundown and we can go over the details." So saying he turned to see to his goods not even giving Karl a chance to answer. Wilhelm paused only long enough to give him a contemptuous sneer then he turned to follow.

Karl stifled a growl of annoyance; both at Wilhelm's rudeness and Marx's assumption of his going along with whatever it was he had planned. Still, he thought giggling the coins in his pocket, Marx had paid and even added something extra, he now had in his hand more money than he had ever seen; let alone owned in his entire life. So yes, he decided, he would at least go and see what Marx had in mind. It could mean more money and really Wilhelm's insults were no worse than his grandfather's.

He had a few hours before he was to meet with Marx so he went to see the sights. The city took his breath away; it was simply overwhelming. Everywhere he turned there were things he had never seen before. Rich people in gilded carriages, buildings so high he could not believe they did not fall over, Women in shockingly revealing dresses who called lewd invitations to him, people selling everything that he could imagine and much more besides. It seemed to Karl that all the people in the world must be here in Altdorf. He even saw dwarfs; the hardy mountain folk that he had heard about in the tavern stories.

If the sights where overwhelming the smells were even more so; the smells of street cooks, the perfumes worn by women, the stench of sewage and rising above it all the smell of all the people, many unwashed, pressed together. These smells and many more that he could not recognize all mingled together were almost overwhelming. These, combined with all the noises, left him speechless for several seconds and he just stood there taking it all in.

His being pushed about and cursed by passersby shook him out of his trance. Shaking his head he realized he was both hungry and filthy. Directions cost him a few coppers to a street urchin; but they enabled him to find his way to an inn that also had a bathhouse. The innkeeper had one of his servants take the cloths he was wearing to a nearby washer woman while he took a bath and got clean cloths out of his pack. Afterwards he had a meal of boiled meat and potatoes, it cost him more than he cared to pay but he figured that he had more money coming from Marx. After he ate he proceeded to lose more of his money to several men in a game of dice.

Deciding he had lost enough of his money decided to go find Marx. It took him awhile but he finally found the Golden Unicorn in time for his appointment. The innkeeper informed him the Marx was already there and was expecting him. As he mounted the stairs that feeling of wrongness returned even stronger than before; by the time he reached the door and knocked it almost had his teeth on edge. Entering the room he found Marx sitting at a table. "Karl my boy, so good to see you again; come have a seat and let me get you a drink."

Karl sat down and took the glass but did not drink. "Well;" began Marx, "I suppose before we begin we should clear up a few things. To start with I must confess I have been dishonest with you."

"How so?" Asked Karl; the feeling of wrongness and his earlier loss of money putting in a bad mood.

"I think it would be easier just to show you." Said Marx; so saying he hissed something in a language that Karl did not understand and he seemed to ripple before Karl's eyes. When the rippling was done Marx had changed; he was now taller and slimmer and where before he had had a goatee beard he was now clean shaven and his flamboyant clothing replaced by plain gray robes. He looked at Karl, who had sat in stunned immobility throughout the change, "You may want to have that drink now." He said in a voice deeper than what he had had before. As Karl downed the drink in a single gulp; Marx continued, "As you can see the face I used before was not mine, and Marx is not my name though it will do for our purposes. I am a Gray Wizard and you my boy are a werewolf and I need your help."

"I am a what?" Asked Karl, still reeling from Marx's revelation.

"A werewolf, you ignorant oaf." Said a voice behind him; turning he saw a girl coming in from another room. She was short with brown hair in a boyish cut and grey eyes that matched her robes.

"Wilhelm?" Ventured Karl hesitently.

"Oh, such a clever puppy;" Said the girl in a falsely sweet voice.

"Wilhelmina;" Said Marx in a tone of reproof, "I have spoken to you about this before, you must not allow your personal feelings to interfere with the task at hand."

Turning back to Karl he said, "I must apologize for my apprentice's lamentable lack of manners; though I must confess, I share her skepticism. You are a werewolf so I fail to see why you are denying it."

"I am not denying anything;" Said Karl, "I mean, I knew something was wrong with me but I did not know what was going on this all just happened."

"I see;" Said Marx putting his hands together in front of his face, "Why don't you tell us the whole story."

So Karl did; he began with the attack of the creature and continued on till the time he met Marx. His audience did not say a word throughout his story though Wilhelmina did make a disgusted face when he told them about his grandfather. When he had finished they all set in silence for a while then Marx spoke again.

"While that explains some things, including why you had those silver shackles in your bag; which was a very clever by the way. To answer your question as to what you are the answer to that is both easy and difficult to answer. The simple answer is a werewolf is a person who under the full moon transforms into a creature that is a hybrid of man and wolf; though it is believed by some, myself included that a werewolf can learn to change or not at will. As to what werewolf is; that is rather more complicated. Some say they are the children of Ulric, fathered by him when the world was young. Others say they are mutant beasts of Chaos. While still others believe that they are natural creatures. Regardless; I would not go making the fact common knowledge, as you can personally testify, most people are not willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Karl could only nod in agreement at that statement. "Now to business;" Said Marx, his tone becoming crisp and businesslike, "Those men who attacked us were not ordinary bandits, they were after me. Members of the Grey Wizards are charged with the guarding of the Empire from threats from within; and those men were members of a group that poses such a threat. They were members of a cult dedicated to Slaanesh." Karl felt his breath catch and his blood chill at the mention of the dreaded name. Marx continued as if Karl had not reacted. "I have been aware of their cult for some time; in fact when we met I was there following up on a lead regarding them. They obviously know I am on to them; that is why their minions attacked us on the road. The problem is that while I know where part of their coven is gathering I do not know where the rest are, that is where you come in.

You see;" He said in reply to Karl's confused expression, "I believe this cult is preparing to perform some ritual here in the city. The problem is I don't know where all the members are, only that they will be acting soon. As for the ones I do know about; I cannot rouse the local authorities to move openly against them because several of them are people of wealth and influence, including Freda Kasarea, abbess of a local temple of Shallya." Karl had thought his capacity to be stunned had been met; he was wrong, the thought of a servant of the gentle goddess being involved with the Ruinous Powers was mind boggling. "So;" Continued Marx, "I must act on my own and that is where you come in. Wilhelmina and I will go tonight to the home of Adred Von Hartnid, a minor noble; several of their leaders will be there including Kasarea. Wilhelmina and I will seize her and attempt to learn from her the locations and plans of their other members. Your task is simple: kill all the others but one."

Before Karl could say anything Marx explained. "It is simple; this is far from the only illegal cult in this city. I also have been tracking a cult of Tzeentch." Karl barely reacted; he had by now finally reached his capacity to be stunned. "You being a werewolf makes you perfect for this task. Your kind is not well known; indeed many dismiss the existence of your species as a myth. Those there with witch sight will assume you to be a mutant of some kind."

"Pardon me;" Interjected Karl, "But what is witch sight?"

"Witch sight;" Said Marx, "Is the ability to sense magic; all spell casters have it; as do creatures of magic like your kind. Now; as I was saying those there will think you a mutant and as the two are rivals they suspect the other cult of the deed. That is why need a survivor; to spread word to the others. They move against the other cult and in so doing they will reveal themselves to us. Now rest we move tonight."

**Author's Notes: Hey everyone, sorry for the delay had internet problems. To answer your questions Kit: 1) he can't control it consciously yet he was just excited and calling forth unknowingly and it is almost full moon again; I am using the real world four week calendars 2) The reason his companions and the room in this chapter felt wrong was because he was sense the magic they were using to disguise themselves 3) Marx and Wilhelmina** **are not evil they are members of the Grey** **Order. Their order defend the Empire from infiltration; think of them as combination of FBI and CIA, they have an 'Ends justify the means' mentality 4) As for werewolves Games Workshop, who developed and owns Warhammer, is actually fairly vague about them canon wise so authors just make it up for themselves. All the theories about their origin are mentioned as possibilities; they are seen as evil by most people for obvious reasons. **

**Finally naming the gods mentioned; Ulric - God of Wolves, Winter and Battle, Shallya - Goddess of Healing and Mercy. For the other two; they are part of a group of four gods who are the main source of evil in the Warhammer world they are at times known as the Ruinous Powers. Khorne - God of hate, rage and bloodshed, Nurgle - God of plague and decay, Slaanesh - God of self-indulgence and lust and Tzeentch - God of change, sorcery, ambition and scheming at times they work together but usually they fight each other.**

**Well that's all for now just so you all know more blood in next chapter. See you then and as always may Jesus bless you all till next time. **


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Notes: Still don't anything except the characters I create.

Shortly after sundown Karl set off for the home of Von Hartnid. Following the directions Marx had given him he headed uptown to where the nobility and other rich lived; the farther up he went the finer the houses became. He had to be careful the farther he went; Marx had stressed that he must not be seen by the night watch anywhere near that part of town that could lead to awkward questions later.

A half hour of walking brought him to the wall that divided the upper class quarter from the lower class quarter. As Marx had warned him there were guards at all the gates; this was theoretically not a problem as he would not be using a gate. He would be getting to the other side another way.

Making sure there was no one about Karl darted into a deserted alleyway next to the wall. There he paused for several seconds, his stomach churning from nervousness, he then took a several deep breaths and began. Marx had explained things to him as best he could regarding werewolves; this was difficult and confusing considering all the different theories about them, but there were some things most agreed upon.

He was no longer human and the wild savagery he felt was now a natural part of him, but it could be mastered. It helped if he thought of it as a horse; a thing that had to be broken and controlled before you could make use of it. It would be with him for the rest of his life but it was something he could control and bend to his will, and with mastery of that would come mastery of the change.

Concentrating his mind inward he searched for the beast within him. Due to the near full moon it was near the surface and the search did not take long. He was shocked when his mind first touched; its wild uncontrollable savagery terrified him.

No, wait, it wasn't uncontrollable; neither was it mindless, it felt and it thought. It had a mind and a will of its own. It had been born when his humanity had died; it was as much a part of him as the mind he had as a human. He was in a way two souls in one body, or two bodies with one soul.

The two sides of him struggled; the wild side resisted. It did not want to serve Marx or anyone else; it wanted to run wild, to hunt and kill. Karl struggled to subdue it to his will; he tried to convey to it the realization that if it continued down the road it wanted to they would eventually be hunted down and destroyed. It responded with scorn; Karl may want to rule but he was weak and afraid. It was powerful and feared nothing, it would not submit to him. Karl felt it push back trying to force him out; it could not yet take control, the full moon was still several days away, but it could defeat all his efforts to gain control and when the moon turned full it would take control again.

Karl's temper flared; he may no longer be human but he would not abandon his humanity and he would not be ruled by a beast! He took his anger and threw it against the beast forcing it back. He did not have the beast's raw power but his will was just as strong and he had other weapons at his disposal. He hurled that fact in the beast's face in the form of an ultimatum. It would submit to his will or he would cage it. Every full moon he would gash himself with silver; he would prevent the change from occurring at all, the beast would be trapped within for the entirety of his life, however long that may be. The beast growled in anger but could see no way to overcome this impasse. Before it could think of anything Karl pressed on. It did not have to be that way; the world was vast and there were many adventures to be had. If it were to submit to him Karl would call on it often, together they could hunt as one and not just on the full moon. Doubtless they would face many dangerous advisories that would make worthy prey; Karl smirked, unless it was afraid to hunt anything besides peasants.

It snorted in an offended manner but at the same time it seemed amused and appeared to be reassessing its opinion of Karl. Karl did have strength after and he possessed the will to dominate. Yes, it would submit to his will and together they would hunt as one. Karl felt the resistance cease; he no longer sensed it resisting him but standing alongside him. He reached for it and it for him and the two souls became one.

A cool breeze caused Karl to shiver and open his eyes; the internal struggle had left him covered in sweat and from the cries of the watchman in the distance calling out the hour, it had taken longer than he thought. He had no time to celebrate his victory time was of the essence.

Concentrating he focused on his arms and legs. He watched fascinated as his arms lengthened and bulged with muscles while thick black hair sprouted; there was pain as his limbs lengthened but it was not as bad as before and he had been expecting it. He now understood why Marx had told to wear only a vest, no shirt, and to go barefoot; he felt his leg muscles bulging as well till they strained at his pants and his toenails grow to claws and scrape on the ground. Deciding it was enough he halted the change; he crouched down, gathered his muscles, and sprang. His leap carried him to the top of the wall; it wasn't wide enough for stand on but he placed his arms over the top and dug his toenails into the wall. He hung there for a moment to see if anyone had seen or heard him but no alarm was raised. After he was satisfied it was safe to do so he heaved himself over and dropped down on the other side.

After pausing again to see if he was unobserved; he shifted his body back to normal and darted into an ally. Keeping to the shadows and alleys he made his way to the house of Von Hartnid. Marx's instructions were perfectly clear and he found the house without any difficulties. Even before he saw it he could smell it. It was the same sickly sweet smell as he had smelled on the attackers; only here it was more concentrated and far stronger.

He circled the house several times trying to deciding on his entrance; he was hampered in that he did not know were the people were in the house. Marx had been very clear, he was not to strike until Marx and Wilhelmina made their move. He could not risk being seen until then.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a carriage coming down the street. He moved back into the shadows as the sounds drew closer. The carriage stopped in front of Von Hartnid's house and a man stepped out. Karl's lips drew back in a snarl; the man had the same stench as the house. The man knocked on the door and the door was opened almost immediately by a slim young man in fine clothing. "Wilhelm;" the slender man said, "How good to see you though you are a bit late."

"A thousand apologizes Von Hartnid; I trust I haven't kept you all waiting long?"

"Not long, though the others have all arrived and are getting impatient. They are all waiting downstairs now come, we don't want to keep her waiting."

The man turned slightly pale and hurried inside. Karl smiled in the dark; he now knew that everyone was here and also where in the house they were at. He silently crept up to the house; as expected the door was bared. His enhanced hearing caught the sound of chanting coming up from the cellar. With a prayer that the chanting would cover it he punched through the glass of a window. Ignoring the tingling of the resulting cuts regenerating he flipped the latch and crawled in. He found himself in a well-furnished room but he did not pause to admire the decor. He had a job to do and even if he hadn't he would not have liked this place.

Inside the smell was even worse; it made his stomach queasy, like he had eaten something with to much sugar in it, and even though it was still muffed and he could not understand it the chanting set his teeth on edge. He did not want to but he had his instructions, he crept to the door leading down and waited.

The chanting continued and he became more and more agitated; so it was a relief when he sensed the magic of Marx and his apprentice. He crouched, gathering himself to spring and partially transformed; he was pleased to see that it was becoming easier. Suddenly the chanting became screams; that was the signal, he sprang at the door which burst open.

The scene which greeted his eyes was bizarre; the room had clearly been intended to be a wine cellar, but the racks had all been pushed to the side. In the center of the room was a brazier which was giving off thick smoke which was obviously a narcotic of some sort. Farther out, arranged in a circle around the brazier where a dozen lampstands all of which help oil lamps though most were out plunging the room in a gloomy half-light.

Between the brazier and the lamps were about fifteen people, all of whom were partially or completely naked. What drew his attention, and that of everybody else in the room, was a large purple and blue shadow in one corner of the room, tendrils from which were dragging a woman into the shadow. Karl had not been told exactly what Marx had planned and seeing it left him shaken. Still, he had to admit it was impressive.

The others in the room were beginning to shake off their surprise and were beginning to move to aid the woman. That would not do, time for Karl to make his move. His first target was a large man wearing only a pair of bright pink silk trousers and carrying a rapier in his right hand. Karl, still unobserved, ran up and jumped; he landed on the man's back, using his enlarged toenails as claws to anchor himself to the man's back leaving his hands free. The man screamed, alerting the others to the new threat, but before they could do anything Karl grabbed the sides of the man's head and tore it from the man's shoulders.

The sound of someone speaking in a language that hurt his ears caught his attention; turning he saw a woman, completely naked but covered with symbols that had been cut into her flesh, blood still dripping from them, as she continued to chant energy began to form around her hands. Karl lunged but was to late. Pink lightning shot from her hands toward him. He just barely managed to throw himself to the side. The bolt shot past him and struck another woman behind him. She screamed, partially in pain, partially in ecstasy, as she fell to the ground. The lightning jump from her to strike two men running close behind her; burning both to ashes. All this went unseen by Karl as he continued his rush toward the caster; she began to chant again but Karl reached her first, one swipe of his hand took the front half of her head off.

The rest fell quickly; the loss of their leader, the death of the big man and caster and most of all the fury of Karl's attack, broke their will. They tried to run but there was only one way in and out. Karl easily headed them off. The fear robbed them of the will to fight and he killed them almost effortlessly. For a moment he feared he had slain them all. Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye; it was the late comer, he was cowering the corner doing a very poor job of hiding, from the smell he had soiled himself. Karl made a great show of searching the room; taking care not to get to close to the man and then left.

After leaving the house he made his way back to Marx. He had to be even more careful than before as he was now covered with blood. When he reached the inn instead of going through the door he climbed up the wall to Marx's window. Marx was sitting at the table calmly smoking a pipe. He seemed unsurprised at Karl's entrance.

"I trust your end went well." He said in a completely calm voice.

"Yes;" said Karl, "I got there in time to see your exit, very dramatic."

"Hardly; I am a shadowmancer, deceit is my stock in trade. I merely added a little color to put the idea of their rival cult into their heads."

Karl looked around they were alone in the room, "Where is your charming assistant?"

"My apprentice and she is elsewhere seeing to our guest; we are all going to have a little chat later."

Karl suppressed the urge to shudder. "Well; something tells me I don't want to be around for that so if I could get my money I'll be on my way."

"No, I rather suspect you don't you want to be here for that. As for your money here it is." He reached into his robes and brought out a pouch and threw it to Karl, he caught it and heard the clink of metal coins. "Here you are, enjoy; I'll let you know when the next job is."

"Next job;" asked Karl, "When did I agree to another job?"

"Your agreement or disagreement is irrelevant."

"What?" Said Karl his temper beginning to rise.

"I am saying that wither you want to do it or not is irrelevant, you will do it. We are at war; have been since before the Empire was formed. We are under siege from within and from without, I am a weapon in our nation's arsenal and now so are you."

"Are you saying I have no choice?" Karl snapped; no longer even trying to hold his temper in check. He took a step toward Marx. That was as far as he got; Marx's hand shot out and he spat a phrase. A band seemingly made of shadows formed around Karl's throat and began to choke him.

"No;" said Marx in the same calm voice he had been using the entire conversation, "You don't have a choice. Understand this is not a full time arrangement. Once we are done here you are free to walk out of this room and go wherever you wish to go. It may be days, weeks, months even years down the road but times will arise when magic is not enough, when we need raw muscle power. When that time comes we will summon you, and trust me when I say we will find you, and you will come if you do not we will expose you to the world and there will be no place for you to go save to the enemy and if that is your decision we will kill you. If you attempt to harm me or my apprentice we will kill you and even if you succeed in killing us our order will avenge us; you will not sense them coming trust me.

With a wave of his hand the band vanished and Karl drew in a deep ragged breath. Marx looked at him and his tone grew sad. "I know you will not believe me but I am sorry and I wish it did not have to be this way but it must. You are to valuable an asset to cast aside; even if we had a choice which we do not. We do not even know if you are a natural creature or some spawn of Chaos; most would destroy you outright, I am offering you a chance to live and aid others. You helped destroy evil people tonight; in the future you will help destroy more, some even worse. In the eyes of the world you are a monster and monsters don't get to be heroes. Neither do we; we are the wielders of the knife in the dark. Doubtless you think I am taking away your freedom but let me leave you with this; from the peasant to the emperor, none of us are free. We all have masters; wither they are of the dark or the light, all serve."

Karl had no reply. He quietly took his money and left.

**Author's Notes: Well another down, I hoped you liked it. Blue and purple are the colors of the rival cult's god I believe if anyone was curious. How did I do with the transformation I did not want to spend chapters and chapters on that point. How was the speech at the end? Grey Wizards are supposed to be good at rhetoric and debate please let me know in the reviews if you think I did a good job. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all to next time. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone still don't own anything but what I make up. Warning disturbing images and implications in this chapter you are warned.**

Karl left Marx's room and managed to slip back to his own inn. As he stripped off his bloody clothing he thought about his options. He did not like being forced into Marx's service but he did not see that he had a choice; besides Marx's offer was appealing, he rather liked the idea of hunting evil creatures in the shadows. Use a monster to kill a monster; to paraphrase an old saying. Still; he did rather resent the way he was being forced to into helping; as if he would not have volunteered on his own.

Though he had not been there long he decided he would not remain in the city. The money Marx had given him was enough to keep him for some time and he found he wanted to travel. However; he wasn't sure where he wanted to go. He finally decided to just be random. Every other time he had been on a journey he had had a destination and a plan. This time he would just start walking and see where the road took him. If nothing else he would find out if Marx was as good at finding people as he claimed.

He spent the next day gathering supplies for the journey. He could hunt now in his wolven form but he did not want to depend on it just yet. He also, remembering his first journey, invested in a sturdy pair of boots.

He departed at dawn the next day. He just picked a gate and walked out. For the first couple of days things were uneventful. The rising of the full moon left him exhausted as he fought to keep the wolf in check but he managed. On the fourth day there was a little excitement when three men tried to rob him. It ended with him being several coins richer and the Empire being three bandits poorer.

After that he decided he was bored of walking on the road and struck off into the woods. At first this slowed him down. Finally he stripped, placed all of his possessions in his bag and attempted to change into his wolf form. It took him longer than he had anticipated; it seemed to be more difficult in daytime, but he kept at it and he finally managed it. After that he made the change almost every day; he next began to hunt in that form. He found that he could bring down and then gorge himself on a deer and that would keep him full for a day or two, allowing him to stretch his normal rations.

Ten days after leaving the city he caught the scent of humans. From the concentration of it he guessed it was either a small village or a large camp. Another smell he detected worried him, the smell of smoke, to smell smoke around humans was of course not unusual; however, the smell was too overwhelming to be normal. In his wolf form he crept to the top of a small hill and looked past the trees to the clearing beyond.

He saw a small village surrounded by a wooden stockade. Or at least it had been; the gate had been ripped down and several holes in the wall were visible. Most of the buildings were smoke blackened ruins, though a few were still smoldering. Bodies littered the ground and not all of them were human. Scattered among the human remains were corpses that almost denied description. They seemed to be some grotesque mockery of humanity. If his form could be described as a hybrid of man and wolf these seemed a hybrid of man and goat. Some were about the size of men with cloven hooves and only small nubs for horns. Others were noticeably larger with great curling ram's horns.

Karl scanned the village but could detect no movement and all the human scents were old now that he studied them more closely. He decided to shift into his human form and search the village more closely; perhaps someone had survived and was hiding, doubtful but he had to be sure. He went from house to house but found no one living, just more dead, human and otherwise. The villagers had fought bravely but had lost. Karl paused near the temple of Sigmar near the center of town, to discouraged to look for survivors he was now convinced did not exist, when he heard a groan. Turning he saw an old man lying on the ground. He was dressed in the robes of a priest and his war hammer lay on the ground next to him. Karl had seen him earlier but had thought the man dead, judging from the bloody gash on his forehead and the two spears in his belly.

Karl knelt by the man and tried to pour some water down the man's throat, but the man could not swallow and Karl gave up rather than risk choking the man. The priest open bleary blood shot eyes and looked about before focusing on Karl. "Who… who… are you?" Asked the priest; his voice barely a whisper and each word coming with great difficulty.

"My name is Karl, a traveler from Altdorf. Are there any more survivors?" As he spoke he cast about for something to press to the man's wounds; for obvious reasons he had felt no need to procure bandages before setting off.

The priest must have seen what he was trying to do because he weakly shook his head. "No…too…too late for me. Everyone else… gone…dead…hopefully." See Karl's surprised look he said, "When attack came...told children to run…hide…no good…Beastmen found them…took them away…eastward…Sigmar forgive me…I have failed…you!" With this last agonized wail he fell back and his eyes went blank, he was dead.

Karl stared at the dead man for a moment. Then he rose, picked up the hammer, and walked away. In his mind he saw the children of his village running from him into the building which was to become their pyre. He had failed them, but he would not fail these children. The priest had obviously thought there was no hope of saving the children and he was right; alone one man stood no chance at all, but he was not a man. _Look out beasts; you've attracted the attention of another monster._ He thought grimly; inside him the wolf growled in agreement, together they would teach these goats not to challenge the wolf for supremacy of the forest.

He headed east in his wolf form; though even in his human one he could have followed the trail the creatures left behind. They obviously had no fear of any pursuit. Even so it was well after sundown before he caught up with them. There were about thirty or so. More a raiding party than a war band; they had failed to place any sentries and he was able to sneak in close. He was glad to see that the majority of them were of the smaller breed, there were only about ten of the larger ones. They were all gathered around a great fire roasting meat on spits and drinking alcohol they probably stole from the village tavern. Karl smiled to see that nearly half of them had already drunk themselves into unconsciousness.

His smile vanished and his gore rose when he looked closer at the cooking meat. They were human limbs and they were too small to be adults. He nearly retched and for a moment he feared he was too late, and then he saw movement on the other side of the clearing. There were a dozen humans, seven boys and five girls, tied to trees. They seemed to range in age from a girl of about sixteen to a boy who looked no older than five.

Just then the largest of the creatures rose and headed toward the bound humans. It stood at least seven feet tall and while it wore a shirt of rusted chain mail its thick muscles and tough looking hairy hide seemed to make it superfluous. Far more alarming were the large horns that looked quite capable of disemboweling someone. Most of all was the fact that it had four arms, each of which looked as muscular as his in his wolf form. It brayed out something in what appeared to be a language of some sort. Those still conscious sat up and locked eyes on him, all they while giving off a screeching sound that seemed to pass for laughter, as well as appearing to grunt encouragement to the large one.

It reached the prisoners and stood before the oldest girl. With one hand it grabbed her by the hair while with another it pulled a knife and cut the ropes binding her to the tree.

"Leave her alone you Sigmar-cursed monster!" The cry came from the captive closest to the girl. It was a boy about twelve years old; his voice sounded more cultured and educated than one would expect from a village child. His head was tonsured and he wore the robes of an initiate priest. He was more battered and bruised than the other children; he also, unlike the others, seemed unafraid of his captors and his eyes blazed with zealous hatred. Without releasing the girl the beast turned toward him and lashed out with one of his free hands, striking the boy on his already broken nose. His head snapped back and struck the tree he was bound to with a loud crack. The other children began to cry and the beasts braying laughter rose in volume.

The beast dragged the girl near the fire and lifted her off the ground by her hair. She whimpered and spewed for a stream that mingled prays and pleas. The creature used two hands to hold her arms out away from her body while with the fourth hand it began to tear away her dress. The more he tore the more the other beasts became excite, some standing up to stamp their hooves.

Karl could take no more. He still had no plan and no idea as to how he was going to deal with them all but he could not allow what was about to happen to happen. He burst from the trees and ran towards the beasts, yelling at the top of his lungs. At first they did not hear him over their own carousing and he was almost on them before those closest to him began to turn towards him. Two of the smaller creatures turned to face him and he swung the hammer at them. He had never trained with the war hammer, or any weapon for that matter, and so swung with more vigor than skill. That close, however, skill was not needed and both fell with crushed skulls.

His headlong rushed carried him through the group and by the time he stopped he found himself facing the four-armed brute who still help the girl. This was bad; there was this monster ahead of him and the whole raiding party behind him. Thinking fast he came up with a desperate plan. He remembered how the head orc had attacked him alone; maybe he could get the big one to do the same here. Drawing in a deep breath he yelled at the top of his lungs, "HEY, YOU OVERGROWN NANY GOAT! YOU AFRAID TO FACE ME ALONE!"

He wasn't sure if the beast understood him, but it clearly understood an insult and a challenge. Dropping the girl it waved the others back and brought out its weapons. In its two top hands it held two spears and in its two bottom hands it held two axes. Karl stood about twelve feet away from it but it was closing the gap fast. He doubted that even in his wolf form he could take it in a fair fight. So he would not fight fair. Crying out, "SIGMAR GUIDE MY HAND!" He threw the hammer straight at the onrushing beast. It could probably have knocked it away or jumped to the side but it was clearly stunned that anyone would do something so stupid that it failed to react in time. The hammer stuck it full in the chest with a sound like a thunderclap. Its weapons fell from its hands and it dropped to the ground. Remarkably; it was still breathing when Karl approached it. Two more blows to its head put an end to that.

Turning back to face the others Karl saw the other beasts were standing there in stunned silence, apparently not sure what to do next. He doubted it would last long. He turned to face the girl, who was clutching the remains of her dress to her chest. Taking his knife and club from his belt he handed them to her, "Free the others and run." He then turned back to face the beasts; they were beginning to shake off their surprise and begin to move, some rousing their drunk companions and getting them to their feet. One of the large ones began bellowing at the others; then one of the others came up to it and shoved it to the side. The first one turned and bellowed at the second and swung at it with an axe. The second blocked the blow with its shield and thrust at the first with a spear. The spear took the first in the chest but hardly seemed to affect it at all and it swung its axe in a downward blow. His rival caught the descending blade on its shield it jerked it to the side, leaving his opponent open, and thrust its head forward. It drove its horns into its rival's chest and jerked its head side to side. The other's bellow became a bleat as its organs were pulled from its chest; it fell to the ground and was still. The other threw its head into the air and roared in triumph, and then it turned toward Karl.

Karl cursed; he should have used the distraction to make a break for it, not stood there starring. Too late now; he would just have to hold them for as long as possible and hope some of the children at least made good their escape. He gripped the hammer with both hands a prepared to meet them.

A cry behind him made him turn. The children had not run as he had commanded; instead they were rushing at the Beastmen. Well, a few of them were one was the boy in the initiates' robes; he had Karl's club and was swinging with both hands. Next to him was a large boy who held a tree branch and was screaming in a mixture of anger and fear. Behind them the girl came screaming in rage with Karl's blade in her hand. Further back the other children were either sitting on the ground crying or throwing stones at their captors, brave but even if they hit all they would do was make the beasts angry.

Karl yelled at them all to run away but none of them listened to him. Cursing he ran towards the Beastmen. The fools were all going to get themselves killed at this rate if he didn't do something. He rushed at the new leader screaming at the top of his voice, attempting to distract them from the children. It rushed at him though it kept its shield up, no doubt as a precaution against a repeat of the move that brought down his predecessor. Karl swung down and the beast raised its shield and caught his hammer. It seemed that it was attempting to use the same tactic on Karl it had used against its rival. Karl had anticipated that and so was ready. It let go with his left hand and shot it toward the beast's throat. His claws extended, at the angle they were at the children could not see it, and tore the thing's throat out.

He grunted in pain as one of the smaller ones got behind him and jabbed him with a spear. He had been leaning forward so it did not go in deep, just grazed across the surface, but it was painful. Before he could turn to face it the initiate was there. "In Sigmar's name I smite thee!" He then put actions to words by swinging the club into its stomach. It doubled over and the boy struck it repeatedly on the head and neck, screaming out scripture the entire time.

Another cry caught Karl's attention. The large boy was down. He had killed two of the smaller Beastmen; but one of the larger ones had come up and knocked his improvised club aside and thrust a spear in his belly. The girl leaped screaming onto his killers back. She howled in fury as she thrust her knife at its face again and again; one of her blows got lucky and the blade sank into its eye and into its brain.

Karl's vision went red; he had come to save these people and now another was dead. The Beastmen would pay with their lives. He charged the larger ones, who had come together to rush the humans _en masse_, he howled in fury, letting more of the wolf out than was probably a good idea. They turned to face him and faltered they saw some of the wolf, enough to know it was no mere human they faced, he swung the hammer with of his might. It caved into the chest of one and stuck. Rather than try to free it he let it go and snatched up its axe. He pushed into the others and succeeded in separating one from the others and beheading it with a single blow. The others had had enough; the broke and fled into the woods. He started to pursue them then checked himself; they were scattering in several directions, he would never be able to catch them all. Besides, he had the children to consider. If he ran off some the beasts might return and he could not risk that. So he turned and headed back to where they sat staring at him.

**Author's Notes: Well we have another chapter; please let me know what you thought. Do you think I went a little to close with the girl; let me say now that while I may get close I will never go into details about such events. For anyone who does not know priests of Sigmar use hammers as weapons because Sigmar did. As for his opponents they are called Beastmen or The First Children of Chaos. They are a mixture of beasts and man and often attack human settlements or worse. Mutations, such as the leaders extra arms are seen as gifts from their gods, and yes they determine leadership by killing rivals. Here is a brief description: Beastlords are the largest and most brutal. They command the beast herds.**

**Wargors are second in command to Beastlords.**

**Bray Shamans are the spiritual leaders and advisors to the herd leaders. They are also powerful spellcasters.**

**Bestigors are the most heavily armed and armoured Beastmen and rate as elite units.**

**Centigors have the upper body of a Beastman and the four-legged lower body of an oxen.**

**Gors and Ungors make up the majority of the infantry units or "Beastherds." The Ungors, however, due to their more human appearance (in comparison to other Beastmen) and smaller horns, are on the bottom of the herd hierarchy.****One final note; I will be going to help the family renovate some property we own does not have internet so it may be a while till next up date but I will still be writing so it will be a multiple chapter update. Bye and may Jesus bless you all till then.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone sorry I haven't updated in a while. Still don't own Warhammer Games Workshop does.**

Karl returned to where the children were huddled together. As he approached them they turned and rushed to him. The girl rushed ahead of the rest and threw herself against him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Sigmar bless you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Karl flushed with embarrassment; he had never hugged a girl before. His blush increased even more when he looked down and saw that her tarred dress had mostly fallen away. She followed his gaze and gave a small shriek of embarrassment. She quickly released him and frantically tried to cover herself. Feeling his face blaze like he was standing next to an oven he ripped the overcoat he had bought off and wrapped it around her; earning him another smile that was a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude.

Desperate to focus on something else he turned to the solemn-faced boy in the initiate robe. "I told you all to run."

The boy met his gaze levelly, obviously trying very hard to look like an adult. "It is the duty of all Sigmar's servants to fight the enemies of man;" here his expression seemed to slip and he suddenly looked much more his own age, "Besides, they are creatures of the wood if we had run they would just have caught us."

Karl could not argue with that. Instead he went back to his pack that he had dropped on the edge of the clearing before he had charged in. Going through its contents he pulled out an extra shirt and pair of pants and cut a length from a rope he had bought. Returning to the group he handed them to the girl and then turned as she put them on. They were both too big for her and she had to roll the sleeves and pants legs and use the rope as a belt; Karl thought she looked cute.

"That was amazing!" Said one of the children. "The way you drove those beasts away; how did you throw that hammer so hard?"

Karl felt his breath catch in his throat; he had a feeling that a truthful answer would probably not be a good idea.

"Peter;" said the initiate, "Did you not hear him? He called on the Lord Sigmar. Clearly he heard our rescuer's plea."

Karl heaved a sigh of relief; it seemed his little deception had worked. He sent a brief prayer up to Sigmar apologizing for involving him in it. He hoped that the god was in the mood to accept that it had all been for a good cause. After all; Karl could hardly go about saving his people if they were always screaming and running away from him.

"Did the baron send you?" Asked the girl, she walked Karl saw she limped, unfortunately Karl had no extra shoes to give her.

"And how did you come to have Father Dietrich's hammer?" The initiate asked.

"No; the baron did not send me. I was traveling from Altdorf when I came to your village. Father Dietrich was still alive but dying. He told me which direction you had been taken and I followed your trail. Now might I have your names?

"I am Clare Gustaf. I am… I was the daughter of the baker." The girl said with a sad look coming over her face.

"I am Ernst Heinman; initiate priest of Sigmar serving under Father Dietrich."

As the other children gave him their names Karl tried to decide what to do. He had just rushed after the Beastmen to save the children without thinking about what he was going to do next. He had no idea where they were or how far they were from civilization. He did not have anywhere near enough food for them all and he would not be able to us his wolven form while they were with him and that would slow them down considerably.

To give himself time to think he turned to the body of the boy. "We should do something for your friend there. We will not be able to take his body with us and we cannot leave his body for the beasts."

"His name was Otto, but everyone called him Ot." Clare said a sad tone in her voice and a pitying look in her eyes. "He was the inn keeper's half-wit son. He wasn't very bright but he was always friendly and everyone liked him."

With Ernst's help they pulled the spear from Otto's body and moved him to a clear area. Karl needed the boy's help because he was intentionally holding back. They did not have time to bury Otto and it would not have mattered if they had because the beasts would just dig him up if they did. Instead they rolled over several barrels of the liquor that had been stolen from the village. They drenched the body with it and Karl fetched a torch from the fire and set the body on fire.

By now all the children were crying except for Ernst and he too looked like he would like to but seemed determined to play the role of the serious priest. When Karl had buried his own village he had not known much in the way of prayers. So this time he turned to the boy. "Perhaps you could say a few words."

Ernst nodded, seemingly pleased to do so. "Sigmar; we pray that you accept the soul of your son Otto and guide him to the finest of Morr's gardens. He was truly your son and died doing as you commanded all your sons to do. To fight the enemies of mankind and defend the empire you forged. This we pray." At the conclusion of the prayer they all made the sign of the hammer.

Karl gave the younger children some of his rations; as they ate he took Ernst and Clare aside. "Listen and keep this to yourselves. I am new to this area and I have no idea where we are so I have no idea where the nearest human civilization is. Also; the food I have will not last, I can hunt but it will slow us down and we will be vulnerable to attack if the beasts return. Especially if they attack you while I am away hunting."

Clare looked pale and tried to keep her breathing steady. Ernst likewise looked uneasy but determined to be brave. "Well;" began Clare hesitantly, obviously nervous about giving her opinion on anything, "Could we go just go back to our village and then follow the road. It must lead somewhere and we may meet other people on the road."

Karl and Ernst both looked at her for a moment. This made her nervously shift in place and mumble something about it just being an idea." No, no it's a very good idea."

"Yes it is, surprisingly so." Said Ernest.

As Clare beamed Karl thought it over in his mind. It was a good idea. He could not think of why it had not occurred to him. It was not terribly far and he could follow his scent back. Food would still be a problem but if they got on the road at least he could at least hope that the chances of the beasts following them would decrease.

After the younger children had eaten he urged Clare and Ernst to do so as well. He was quite hungry himself but he could not eat food they would need, he would take as little of it as he could and eat more when hunted. When they all had eaten he got them up and moving just as the sun was coming up. Karl took the lead holding a spear made of a piece of wood with a fire-hardened point. Behind him came Clare gamely ignoring trying to ignore the pain in her feet and carrying the smallest of the children. The rest came in a line behind her with Ernst, now armed with the hammer brought up the rear. In this order they set of for civilization.

**Author's Notes: Sorry it took so long to update and that it is on the short side; like I said before am taking off soon, in the morning in fact, and I wanted to get this off before I go. I was trying to give some of the others some personality please let me know if I did alright. When they make the sign of the hammer it is like Catholics making the sign of the Cross Next update will hopefully be both longer and multiple chapter. Bye and may Jesus bless you till then and Happy Memorial Day please pause to remember and say a pray for all who have fallen in defense of America, not meant to offend anyone from other countries. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes: Hello again everyone. Sorry that I haven't updated in a while hopefully this will help make up for that enjoy I still don't own Games Workshops's stuff.**

The going proved to be even slower than Karl had anticipated. He had not realized just how fast he could travel in his other form or how slow human children could be. He had thought it would be simple; follow his own scent back to the village. It had taken him less than a day to go from there to where he had rescued the children; he had thought it would take no more than two to get back. They were now on their third day and they still weren't back yet.

One of the biggest impediments to their progress was that, with the exception of Ernst who had been cleaning the temple, all of them had been in bed at the time of the attack. Meaning they were all in night cloths and had no shoes and the ground seemed to consist of nothing but sharp pine needles, tree roots and rocks. So before long all of their feet were bruised, blistered and bleeding and they were all limping.

Karl did what he could to ease their pain, including the sacrifice of much of his spare clothing; cut to rags to wrap around feet. He, Clare and Ernst, who had insisted that Clare take his shoes, began carrying the smaller children for periods of time. This was hard on both Clare and Ernst but both continued on and neither grumbled; indeed Ernst tried to keep up moral by quoting a near constant stream of scripture, though if it raised anyone's moral Karl did not see it, his certainly wasn't.

Of even greater concern than sore feet was food. It went even faster than Karl had feared, despite efforts to ration it. Several times he left to go hunt, but he had little success. He could not leave them for long so he did not dare go far to hunt for game and there seemed to be little game to hunt. He had never been a woodsman and he knew little of beasts and birds but even he would have found their near absence mysterious, had he not had a horrible suspicion that he already had the answer.

As they had followed his trail back to the village he had also smelled the stench of the creatures he had been pursuing. He had done his best to ignore it but found he could not; it had taken him a while to figure out why, then it came to him on the second day while he was hunting, he was away from the rout they had taken and not only could still smell them the scent, it was stronger. There was only one explanation, there were more Beastmen in the woods. From the strength of the smell he guessed that they had been there less than a day ago but he could not tell in which direction they had gone. He did not say anything to the others, no sense in upsetting them, but he did his best to push them harder and kept vigil at night.

It was while he kept vigil on the third night that Ernst approached him.

"May I have a word with you Sir?"

Karl sighed. "Yes Ernst you may and I told you to call me Karl." He tried not to snap at the boy but it was a challenge. He had told the boy not to call him sir several times and he was tired and grumpy from travel and two nights robbed of sleep due to worries about an attack.

"Thank you S…Karl." Said Ernst; sitting down beside Karl. They sat there for several minutes as Ernst took a number of deep breaths and licked his lips nervously. Finally, he began to speak. "Do you remember when you rescued us; when you threw the hammer and you called on Sigmar and he answered?"

"Yes…" Said Karl; feeling distinctly uneasy.

"Well; I, I was wondering what it felt like to know you have Sigmar's favor."

Karl didn't have a clue as to how to answer, when clearly the truth would not do at all, then an idea struck him. "Surely you already know; aren't priests his favored children?" He had no idea if anyone actually thought that but it seemed like something that might be thought.

"If that is true;" said Ernst, "Then I am even worse off than I thought. I have struggled with my vocation ever since I received the call to the clergy;" here he gave a feeble and forced laugh, "call, what call? I did not hear any call, my parents heard the call. They are very devout and all throughout my childhood they kept saying how nothing could make them happier than if they had a child in the clergy.

"Of course I wanted to make my parents happy; so I told them what they wanted to hear, that I wanted to join the clergy. Well they could not have been happier. They were on very good terms with our priest and he saw to my acceptance as an initiate, first with him and then with Father Dietrich."

Ernst sighed heavily. "I've tried. I've tried so hard to be a good priest. I've done everything expected of me. I memorize scripture; I say all the prayers when I'm meant to say them, I quote scriptures and platitudes all day long, here I've tried to stay strong and raise the others spirits and I threw myself at the enemy like a priest of Sigmar is supposed to do. Yet in all this; I have never felt Sigmar's presence; not when I pray, not when I read and quote scripture, not even when I fought his enemies."

He looked at Karl with pleading eyes and when he spoke he sounded on the verge of tears. "What am I doing wrong?"

Karl had no idea what to say. The boy had just bared his soul to him and all Karl could do was lie. Perhaps this was Sigmar's punishment for his deception.

Before he could think of anything to say the wind shifted; bringing an all too familiar scent with it. Beastmen! The smell was getting stronger. They were coming closer!

He turned to Ernst, "Get your hammer!" Before Ernst could ask what was going on Karl had jumped to his feet and run over to where Clare was sleeping. He shook her awake and hissed at her, "Get the children into the trees, and get up there yourself!"

Turning back to Ernst they positioned themselves between the Beastmen, whom they could now hear through the trees and the children as the latter scrambled up trees.

The creatures burst into view seconds later. Karl was pleased to see that they all appeared to be similar to the smaller creatures; none were even remotely as large as the leader he had fought before. What they lacked in size, however, they made up for in numbers. Karl counted at least fifteen of them and while he was fairly confident that he could take them in his wolven form that was not an option here. The two sides looked at one another for a second, though it seemed far longer and then rushed each other.

The first one Karl screwed with his makeshift spear. But fire-hardened wood did not go in or out as easily as steel and he received a glancing blow from another as he sought to free his spear. Once he did he employed it as a quarterstaff. Though he had no training with such a weapon his blows were powerful, especially since he figured it was dark enough he could allow his arms to bulge with just a little extra muscle.

Just then a cry from behind caught his attention. Turning he saw that a second group of similar creatures had come through the trees on the other side of the campsite. They seemed to be focused on those in the trees, leaving Karl and Ernst to the first group. Even as he watched several of the beasts jumped up and caught the lower branches. The terrified crying of the children seemed to encourage the creatures.

Hate made Karl's vision turn red. He hurled his spear at one that was just reaching for Peter, it took it right in the back pining it to the tree. He turned to look over his shoulder at Ernst, "Come on!" And ran back to the children.

He barreled into one. He grabbed it by the neck and rammed it into the tree, crushing the front of its skull. He grabbed another and lifted it over his head and threw it into two of its compatriots.

Just as he was looking for more foes a shout went up. At first he feared it was another band of the creatures, but it was not. Ten men armored and on horseback thundered through the trees into the creatures. Within seconds thirteen of the Beastmen were dead, either cut down by the men or trampled by the horses, and the rest fled.

In the sudden stillness Karl cautiously approached the men, making sure his arms were back to normal. The men were all armored in full plate mail and all their shields bore the same device; but the armor was all battered and worn and here and here and there were dents and holes in the armor. Karl could not imagine knights or state troops allowing their gear to get into such a state. He feared the men may be deserters or bandits.

Approaching the nearest one he bowed low, "Greetings good Sir, your timing is exhalent. Might I have the names of our rescuers?"

The man closest to them rode up to Karl and lifted the visor of his helmet. He had a weather beaten face and several days' worth of stubble. "I am Sir Jonathan Bach; I am my fellows of the order of the Hunters of Sigmar. Now, who are you and what are you doing here?"

"If it please you sir knight;" said Ernst stepping forward to stand beside Karl, "We are refugees. Our village of Treefell was destroyed by Beastmen and we were taken captive till this adventurer found and rescued us."

The knights looked at Karl, as if they were not sure if they believed Ernst. "You took on an entire Beastman raiding party by yourself?" Asked Bach; a clear note of skepticism in his voice.

Karl decided the best course of action would be some selective half-truths. "Well there weren't very many, most were drunk and some seemed far more interested in killing one another than me and I felt no compulsion to interrupt them."

One of the other knights chuckled, "Aye, that's usually the way of that lot."

The knights seemed relax at Karl's story. "Well;" said Bach, "It was fortunate for you that we found you. The beasts that attacked your village are just a part of a far larger force. My brothers and I have been observing them and harassing them when we could. Unfortunately there are too few of us here to attack them directly so we have been warning the villages here about. I am afraid we reached yours too late. Baron Von Strab has ordered all to flee to the town of Three Rivers. The beasts are headed there as well but it is the strongest fortified town about, if we can stop them anywhere it is there. We are the last patrol and we are headed there now. I advise you to come with us."

Karl and his self-appointed wards were only too happy to agree.

**Author's Notes: Well what did you all think? In the reviews I was advised to do some character development for Ernst and Clare, this was Ernst's chapter Clare will have the next one. I got the line about the call from the Hallmark movie **_**What the deaf man heard,**_** which I highly recommend. For those of you who don't know the Hunter of Sigmar is a knightly order. Their founder believed it was foolish to allow Beastmen armies to gather in the woods and wait for them to emerge. These knights go into the woods and attempt to defeat them there before they leave the forests; which is why they have such a battered appearance, from all the time in the woods. They are, as you can guess, very popular with villagers. Hoped you liked it please review and please pray for those in Oklahoma and Colorado Springs, which is having a big fire, and Shaw who has cancer. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes: Hello again everyone. As I said before this will be another character development chapter, after this one we'll be back to death and dismemberment. Still don't own the Warhammer world. **

Though the knights and their horses were as tired as Karl felt. Bach pushed them through the night. Karl feared they would crash into trees or trip on roots in the dark or be ambushed. But the horses clearly knew the woods better than Karl did and no sign was seen of the enemy. They emerged from the forest just as the sun was rising.

They emerged from the forest on a hill; below them was the town of Three Rivers. It was aptly named. Two rivers merged to flow together forming a third. Nestled in the area where the two met was Three Rivers. It was a walled town; at a guess Karl would say that it had to have several thousand people living in it. At the back of the town, nearest the river, was a large manor house.

As they rode down the hill toward the town Karl smelled all the smells that he had come to associate with human habitations and there was another smell; he did not know how he knew what it was but he did, it was fear. It hung like a cloud over the town.

When they entered he saw that there were many more people than he had thought. Far too many to be permanent residents; Karl guessed them to be villagers and famers who had fled the approaching Beastmen. The smell of fear emanated the most from them and many stared about with frightened or vacant eyes. Among them moved two groups of people; the first was a group of women in the white robes common to the Sisters of Shallya, they moved about the refugees handing out food, blankets and medicine. The second group was men in the some sort of uniform; they were moving among the refugees and grabbing all the able-bodied men and the larger boys and shoving them into a group, they were clearly conscripting them for the town's defense.

Now that they were on his mind he saw a lot of soldiers about, running to a fro under the glare of sergeants and officers. He also so more knights of Bach's order. He felt more confident looking at them; surely this was a force more than capable of seeing off a swarm of beasts. Then he looked at them more closely; the knights were as battered and worn as Bach and his men and they all had wearing and uneasy looks, as if haunted by some terrible knowledge. Karl's confidence was further undermined by the troops. Most of them wore no uniforms and the way they moved and handled their weapons suggested unfamiliarity with military life. Karl guessed most were not soldiers at all but refugees and townsmen pressed into service. He thought back to the monsters he had faced and shuddered, most of these men wouldn't stand a chance against those things.

The knights rode on into what was clear the upper class part of town when things were normal. They pulled to a halt in front of a building that was clearly a temple to Shallya and Clare and the children were handed down. A middle age priestess came out; Bach gave a few words of explanation and the priestess said she would try to find a place for them. They tried to get Ernst to dismount as well but he refused. "My duty is to fight." Was all he said; Bach looked at him for a moment and then silently nodded his agreement.

The knights, along with Ernst and Karl, went to the temple of Sigmar where the knights were staying. There they met with Baron Von Srab. The baron was a short man of middle years built like a barrel, hard muscles beginning to run to fat.

"Welcome back Bach, I was beginning to fear the worst." He looked at Ernst and Karl, who hastily bowed, "And who might these two be?"

"Refugees from Tree Fell my lord;" said Bach, "When we found them they were holding off an Ungor scouting party. As they show more of an inclination to fighting than most of the people here I wanted them with my knights rather than with the militia when the fighting starts."

"As you will;" said the baron, his mind clearly on other things, "What did you learn from your scouting?"

Bach sighed resignedly. "It is bad my lord. We could not get an exact account of course but the enemy is in strength far greater than a raiding party; it's a whole Sigmar-damned army. I would guess that they number over two thousand at least."

The baron sighed heavily. "I feared it would be so. What of our own strength?"

This last question was directed at an old man who appeared to be a councilor of some kind. The man consulted a piece of parchment before speaking. "Of our own numbers; we have one hundred and fifty regular soldiers, these include the men of the town watch. I have been informed that the militia now numbers approximately seven hundred; Sir Bach of course has his thirty knights. Messages have been sent to the neighboring lords requesting aid but so far none have answered. Of provisions…" The man began, but the baron waved him to silence.

"No need to go on about that Rufus. This will not be a siege. The beasts will reach us by nightfall and I doubt not that they will throw themselves at us at once. No, we may very well die but it will not be from hunger." He turned to Bach. "My old friend, as you know most of these men out there have never held a weapon before and of the troops I doubt you would find a score of veterans among them. The fighting will fall hardest on you and your knights."

Bach gave a shrug. "Our order is dedicated to the defeating these beasts and the defense of the citizens of the Empire, we would have it no other way."

"Good;" said the baron, "Well, I do not believe there is anything more to be said. You all know where you need to be at sundown I suggest you all get some food and rest."

Karl went with the knights to get some food, Ernst chose to remain behind and pray and as many other people where there seeking comfort he went to speak with them, the town's priest having died a month or so ago of fever.

After he ate he went to the barn where the Knights horses were stabled. Bach had promised to send someone for him at sundown and Karl was determined to catch up on lost sleep while he had the chance. He sat himself down in a corner, rolled himself up in a blanket from his pack and was asleep in seconds.

A noise jerked him awake, he struggled to throw off the blanket and grab the wood cutters axe one of the knights had given him. "Please, it is only me." Looking up Karl saw that it was Clare. She had scrubbed her face and tied her red hair back with a leather band. In place of Karl's cloths she now wore a simple white dress, rather like the ones worn by the priestess only without the emblem of the goddess or red cuffs. In her hands she held the cloths he had given her. She hesitantly offered them to him. "I thought you would want these back." She sounded nervous, she looked nervous and to Karl's nose she smelled nervous.

"Is something wrong?" Karl asked.

She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. She squired in place, took a few deep breaths and then tackled him so hard that if he had not been sitting down it would have knocked him off his feet. He opened his mouth ask her what she was doing but before he could speak her lips locked with his in a ferocious kiss.

Karl felt like his body was on fire. His heart was pounding so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. He felt lite headed and could barely think. Finally she released him and he found himself gasping for air, as was she. "What are you doing?" He finally managed to get out.

"Thanking you." She said, blushing even more than him, as she started to pull off her dress.

Karl felt the blood simultaneously rush to his face and shoot from his head causing him to feel even more lite headed, making thinking even harder. "You don't have to do this." He somehow managed to splutter out.

"Yes I do. You saved me from being…" She stopped and took a deep breath. "You saved me from those things and tonight you are going to face them again, you deserve this. I'm not brave like you; tonight you'll be on the wall facing them and I'll be hiding in the temple with the children, but if I can make you happy till then I will."

Karl tried again to speak but she placed a hand on his mouth. "I know what you're going to see, that I don't have to do this, but I want to. Do you know what is going to happen, if we survive tonight I mean?" Karl just shook his head. "I'll tell you. You'll leave here, you're not the settling down kind I can see that. Do you know what will happen to us? Ernst will be alright; when the new priest gets here it will be as before for him. The Sisters will look after the children until families take them in and me…" She paused and seemed to be fighting back tears. "Well, I am a woman; I will have to find work. The only work I'll probably be able to get is working in the tavern. Being pawed and groped by drunks all day and I'll be expected to… to go with patrons.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to sound calmer. "I know I'll never see you again and I know that all those stories about the lady being rescued by the brave knight and living happily ever after are just that, stories. But you will always be a hero to me and I want my first time to be with you. So I can pretend that it's you every time I have to go with a patron."

Karl was unable to speak for a moment. He had never imagined something like this. A beautiful girl was begging him to take her, and by Sigmar he wanted to. But he could not do it. This girl thought he was a hero but if he did this now that would be a lie.

She was terrified of both dying and what would happen if she lived. She was exhausted from the last several days and now that she finally had time to think she was doubtless grieving for her family and fully realizing what had happened and what would have happened; he doubted that she was thinking clearly and was latching on to him in both hero worship and terror. To take advantage her like this would be wrong and it would make Karl a monster in his own eyes.

He could not find the words to express all this but she must have seen something in his eyes; "You don't want me!" She jumped up and ran towards the door, tears flowing from her eyes. Karl sprang up and caught her before she reached the door. He pulled her into an embrace as she sobbed into his shirt. "You must think I am horrible." She bawled. "Some kind of loose woman; or a silly little girl full of romantic nonsense."

"Hush;" Karl said softly, "Don't go saying things like that. You are braver than many men I've known. Most of them could not have gone through what you have, never forget that." Looking down he saw that though she was still crying a little she was on the verge of sleep, exhaustion finally catching up to her. 'Come;" he said softly, "You need some sleep."

"Can I stay here?" She whispered in a pleading voice. "I feel safer with you."

Karl smiled softly. "Of course you can." Together they lay down. She snuggled up beside him, her head on his chest as he arranged the blanket over them, soon both were sound asleep.

**Author's Notes: Well there you have it, I hope it was not too risqué for anyone. How was my portrayal of Clare? I wasn't trying to show her as weak. She has just had her world torn apart after all and is terrified about the future seeing only bad at this point and she sees Karl as both her hero and first crush. I am not sure if things would really be as grim as she says but she is a penniless refugee and let us face it, back then men had advantages and opportunities women did not. For those of you who found this too mushy fear not. Next chapter we conclude this adventure and there will be much death and dismemberment. Bye, please keep praying for Shawn and the others and may Jesus bless you till then. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes: Still don't own this is I did I would be living the life of Riley, whatever that means, and now Battle Royal!**

Karl was awakened by Bach kicking his foot. The knight held a torch in his hand, as night had fallen, and took in the half asleep Clare with a wide grin. "Seeing your company I am truly sorry to disturb you but, alas, duty calls." He left after giving the furiously blushing Clare an exaggerated wink.

They quickly got up and brushed the hay from their cloths. As they left, he headed towards the walls she to the temple, she turned to him and said quietly. "Thank you." Then she turned and was gone.

Bach had told Karl to meet him at the gate. When he found the Knights they were not on the wall but in front of the gate. His expression must have shown his puzzlement because one of the knights explained. "The militia can hold the walls well enough for now; their bows will hopefully take a good number of the enemy. But in the long run; we don't have enough men to hold the walls and the gate is the weak point in any defense. Somewhere the line is going to give and when it does it will be up to us to plug the gap."

Just then Bach came up with Ernst. The boy had somehow gotten his hands on a shirt of brigandine armor and wore it over his red robe and his head was shaved in the manner of priests. Karl noticed the boy seemed a good deal calmer than when they had spoken before, almost serene. Ernst seemed to feel Karl's gaze because he turned to him and smiled. "I understand now." He said calmly. At Karl's confused expression Ernst continued. "Before, when I asked you what I was doing wrong, I did not understand then. But I do now; it came to me while I was speaking to the people at the temple. It is not enough to fight evil that is only the first part of it, a priest must fight to defend the Empire its people, as well as fighting evil, that is the second part. I understand that now and at last I can feel it, I feel the spirit of Sigmar."

Before Karl could say anything there came the sound of horns being blown. At the same moment the wind shifted and brought with it the all too familiar smell of Beastmen. "If you can feel Lord Sigmar, ask him to look on us with favor and maybe lend a hand." Said Bach, half in jest and half serious. The horns were now joined by the Beastmen braying and bashing weapons on shields. Karl's view was blocked by the wall and gate so he could not see them; which in a way made things even worse. He could see the men on the walls, however, and they were clearly terrified, the smell of their fear was nearly overwhelming and it was making Karl uneasy and jumpy.

"Here they come!" Shouted someone on the walls; Karl could here high pitched bleating wails coming closer. On the walls those with missile weapons fired. The air was filled with the whistle of arrows and the crack of black powder weapons owned by some of the wealthier citizens. Beyond the wall many cries turned to screams of pain, some animal, others all too human, but still they drew closer. The defenders continued to fire, there was nothing resembling a volley; everyone was just shooting as fast as they could. Suddenly another horn blast sounded from the woods; a cheer went up from the walls, "They're running!" Someone cried.

All along the wall people began cheering and loudly thanking the gods. Karl noticed, however, that the knights remained grim. They must have guessed his thoughts because one said to him, "It is not over. From the sound of those cries that attack was only Ungors." Seeing Karl's confused look the knight explained, "They are smallest Beastmen, like the ones we saved you from. The enemy leader just sent them to probe our defenses and he now knows what he needs to know."

"Which is?" Asked Karl nervously.

"He now has an idea of how many shooters we have and that we have no artillery or wizards. The next attack will be for real."

Sure enough, not ten minutes later another horn sounded and the braying calls recommenced, though this time they were a good deal deeper in tone. Then a series of roars sounded so loud and deep Karl would have sworn the ground shook. "Sigmar save us!" Came a panicked screech from the walls, "Minotaurs!"

Several men began to turn to flee from the walls. "Stand your ground damn you!" Roared the Baron as he drew a pistol. "Any man runs I'll kill him myself!" Cowed, the men slunk back to their posts.

The oncoming hoard drew closer and now Karl could tell the ground really was shaking. Then there was a great crash as something struck the gate. To his horror Karl could actually see the tops of horned heads over the top of the gate. Arms that seemed as big as a man lifted crudely forged axes and brought them crashing down on the gates, which bowed and began to splinter. "Fan out!" Bach cried. "Form groups of four or five! When they come through draw them apart and surround them!" Just as the knights moved to obey there came a great crash as the gates where hacked apart.

They resembled the Beastmen Karl had fought before except these were more than ten feet tall and seem at least three times as thick as a man and it appeared to be all muscle. There was only four of them but that was four too many in Karl's opinion. They rushed in, pushing each other as each tried to be the first one in. As Bach had clearly hoped; when they saw the scattering knights they split up to give chase.

The first one in took off after the group led by Bach. Bach and two other knights kept backpedalling while two others came up behind the creature to strike at the back of its legs. One's strike had no effect, his sword bouncing off of the creature's thick muscles and hide. The other had more success; angling his body so that his whole weight was on it he drove his sword like a spear into the back of the beast's knee. The thing bellowed in pain and, dropping its weapons, went down on one knee. The two knights ran forward and drove their blades into its back. It roared again and arched its back from the pain. Bach and the two knights with him ran forward going for its stomach, clearly trying to reach its organs. The beast was far from dead; however, it shot its head forward while flailing with its fists.

Bach managed to duck under the fist aimed at him. His fellow knight was not so fortunate and the blow took him full in the chest. The man flew a good ten feet to crash into a wall. His breastplate was caved in and blood seeped out, his insides clearly crushed. The man in the middle gave a gurgling scream as horns the size of sword blades were driven into him. Bach sprang forward and drove his sword into one of its eyes and into its brain. The creature jerked then fell to the ground dead.

One of the other groups had not been so fortunate. The beast must have sensed them coming at it from behind because it spun around and sliced both knights in half with one blow, its axe going through their armor as if it were made of rotten cloth. It then turned and cut down the other two knights in two quick strokes. It roared in triumph. A roar that was cut short as the Baron fired his pistol into its open mouth.

A cry of alarm turned Karl's attention to the gate and he felt his heart freeze. Pouring through the gate were hundreds of Beastmen, many of them the larger type he had fought before, some even larger. The minotaurs had not only created an opening for the rest of the Beastmen, they had ensured that the knights could not form a shield wall to block the gap. Already men were fleeing the wall before they could be trapped there by the oncoming beasts.

Something had to be done and quickly. Karl charged at a Minotaur which had killed all the knights attacking it. To Karl's disgust it had stopped to eat one of the dead knights, completely ignoring the fighting going on around it. Its muzzle covered with blood it must not have smelled him as he approached. He ran up and swung, his arms swelling as he buried the axe in the beast's groin. It dropped the corpse it had been feeding on and gave a surprisingly high pitched squeal. Before it could react Karl got behind it and swung his axe into the back of its ankle, the haft of his axe groaning from the impact as he hamstrung the beast. The beast stumbled and fell. As both its hands were still clutching its mutilated groin it could not break its fall and fell flat on its face.

Karl ran up, swung his axe over his head and brought it down with all his might on the creature's head. Unfortunately for him the haft of the axe chose that minute to break and the axe head failed to penetrate all the way through its skull. "In Simar's name I smite you!" Cried a voice; with a start Karl realized it was Ernst. It sounded far deeper and stronger than a twelve-year olds voice should. Then the boy was beside him. Ernst swung his hammer up and brought it down on the axe head, driving it all the way into the creature's brain. It was then that Karl saw Ernst's eyes; they now blazed with bright fire. "Come." Ernst said his voice compelling obedience.

Karl reached down and snatched up a long sword from one of the fallen knights. Looking about he saw the situation was even worse than he feared. The defenders were quitting the wall and falling back while attempting to get into defensive formations; but the enemy kept pressing them and they were hampered further by their own inexperience. Elsewhere he saw Bach and his knights; they had slain the last Minotaur but less than half the knights remained and many of them sported wounds. They had formed a shield wall and were holding their own for the moment but they were cut off from the other defenders and were surrounded by hundreds of Beastmen.

Indeed; as far as Karl could see the only reason any of them were still alive was due to the enemy's lack of discipline. Though many still pressed the attack others were breaking off. Some to feed on the dead, others to break into house to either loot or destroy, for apparently no other reason than the pleasure of destruction, soon there were fires burning everywhere bathing the town in a hellish light. A joyous bleating went up from what appeared to be a tavern or inn. One of the beasts appeared at the door a waved a small barrel of spirits over its head. Instantly all the Beastmen in the vicinity rushed towards the building; numerous fights broke out as they all simultaneously tried to get in and keep others out.

"This way." He said to Ernst and headed towards Bach. Together they charged into the mass of Beastmen. They should have been overwhelmed almost instantly but they were not. Indeed; in all the confusion the enemy did not even seem to realize that there were enemies among them. Ernst, with a strength he had not possessed before, swung his hammer left and right killing or crippling a foe with each blow. As before he was belting out scripture; but where fear had been present before now there was only a savage joy in the destruction of the enemies of man.

Joy of another kind was in Karl's heart. The beast within him roared in delight at the blood and Karl's soul sang with each foe he cut down. Ever since he became a werewolf he found he enjoyed fighting, or maybe he had before and just never got the chance to find out. In almost every fight he had been in before now he had always had to hold back; either to hide what he was from others or because he had to focus on something else, such as rescuing and then protecting Clare and the others. Here, masked by confusion and chaos of battle he needn't bother. Here he could indulge his love of fighting to the max.

The Minotaurs had been difficult but these smaller ones, many of whom did not even see him till he struck, were easy. He swung left and right, lopping off arms and heads and even slicing a few in half. He longed to shed his human form and fight with fang and claw but there were still people about. If it came to being only him, as it had been in his village and seemed likely now, he would do so and reap a bloody toll before the end.

Suddenly the burst through the last foes and reach Bach. Karl feared he may have let something slip that would reveal more than he wished but they seemed focused on Ernst and his glowing eyes. Then Bach gathered himself and spoke. "Come; we must get back to the Baron and his men. The beasts are nearly to where the women and children are."

Karl instantly felt shame. Here he was indulging in battle madness when Clare and the others still need his aid. Inside him the beast whined. Why must he always be thinking like a human, saddling himself with duty to those who would shun him if they knew the truth? Karl gave a mental shrug and followed the others.

The going was not easy anymore. More and more foes became aware of them as the struggled to rejoin their fellow defenders. Karl did not feel tired, being a werewolf he had a great deal of stamina, but his arm was sore from the constant swinging of his sword. Now that he was thinking instead of letting battle lust carry him away he felt the pain when a blow got through his defenses and the tingling sensations as his body regenerated.

While his stamina was holding the knights were clearly suffering. Running and battling in heavy armor was draining them, slowing their speed and reflexes, even as Karl watched several were overwhelmed and pulled down. Only Ernst seemed unaffected. His eyes still blazing he fell on the enemy as if he hadn't been fighting as long and hard as the rest of them.

At last they could see the other defenders. They had been pushed back to the upper class part of town and to Karl's dismay the temple where the women and children were sheltered was distressingly close. The men were surrounded, Beastmen having come up through alleys and side streets to flank them and many of the smaller Beastmen had climbed onto rooftops to shower them with arrows and javelins.

Though they had no more skill than before Karl could now smell very little fear on them. They had passed to that place beyond fear and now fought with the courage of the doomed. With a final push; Karl and those with him broke through the enemy line and linked up with the defenders. The Baron raised his sword in salute. His armor was torn and his left eye was gone. "Well, Bach my old friend, it seems we shall enter the realm of Morr together."

"So it seems. Let's make a stand worthy of a song and take as many of these misbegotten monstrosities with us as possible."

By now the beasts had recovered themselves and threw themselves at the defenders line.

Karl did not know how long it lasted, it seemed like years. Again and again the beasts threw themselves at the humans and each time they were thrown back. Everywhere Karl looked he saw scenes of horror and heroism, sometimes blended together.

To one side a fat man, wielding only a butcher's cleaver, chopped a Beastman to pieces giggling all the while, his sanity shattered by the night's horrors. In the half light, the only illumination came from burning buildings, and covered in blood the man looked as demonic as the beasts they fought.

Elsewhere a boy, who looked to be little older than Ernst, lay on the ground crying for his mother as he tried to stuff his intestines back into his stomach.

Karl also saw a man with graying hair fighting several Beastmen at once. He stood over the body of a younger man and tears rolled down his eyes as he cried out for his son.

All this Karl saw in fits and starts as he himself thrust and chopped at anything that presented itself as a target. He took the head off of a brute with three eyes. He lashed out at a striking snake which was, in fact, a creature's arm. A smaller beast jumped on his back and thrust a dagger into his back. Pain shot through him but he managed to reach back a grab it by the neck. He spun and hurled it into a nearby fire. Every time he tried to catch his breath more foes came, they seemed endless.

The defenders beat back each assault but every time their numbers grew fewer and Karl did not think they could last much longer. Then a commotion from the enemy drew his attention. They had parted and a new Beastman stepped forward. It was obviously old, its back was bent and it seemed almost feeble compared to the ones around it. But Karl was not deceived. His witch sight told him otherwise. The creature was saturated with magic.

It raised a staff of gnarled wood topped with a glowing green stone and screeched out a chant that hurt his ears. A mass of green energy shot from the top of the staff and struck the front rank of the defenders. Upon impact it exploded. More than a score of men died, their bodies simply disintegrating, while many more writhed on the ground screaming. The blast had created a gap in the line and the Beastmen surged towards it.

Further screams behind Karl drew his attention. Turning he saw to his horror the roof of the temple was on fire and the women and children were beginning to flee from it. Upon seeing them the Beastmen gave a cry of delight. In that instant Karl was not in Three Rivers, he was at home hearing the children burn. _NO! NOT AGAIN! _The thought burned in his mind. A mist settled over his eyes giving everything a reddish ting.

Heedless of the danger; he threw himself into the oncoming hoard. He loosed a howl that had nothing human in. He swung his sword left and right. He had no training with the blade but he did not need it. Heedless of future consequences he released more and more of his inner wolf, increasing his speed, strength and reflexes. The beast seemed to be moving through tar, they were so slow. He seemed to see their blows coming from a mile away and easily avoid or parry. Each of his blows cut through two or more of his opponents, but such was his rage that that wasn't enough.

He swung the blade with one hand and lashed out with the other, he was not surprised to see it bristled with black hair and sported claws. While he beheaded one beast he used his claws to rip out anther's throat. A club came at him and grabbed the arm holding it and tore it off at the elbow.

It could not last. Though he slew many and all those near him stank of fear there were simply too many. The inevitable happened and he failed to see the axe coming in towards the back of his head. Neither did he see the sword that interposed itself between him and the axe. He did hear the clash of weapon-on-weapon. Turning, he saw Bach and several of his knights.

Bach smiled at him. "The Baron is trying to reform the line while you're busy killing all the Beastmen singlehandedly. We got bored and thought we might join you. How about while we're at it we go see to that shaman of theirs?" Karl nodded and together they charged toward the twisted creature.

It must have sensed their approach because it turned towards them and raised its staff. They lunged forward, desperate to reach it before it could cast again. They were too late. With a screech green light again burst from the staff. This time it took the form a swarm of wriggling green worms. Those that struck Karl immediately began to burry into him.

Karl dropped his sword and fell to his knees. He screamed in pain as the things went deeper into him, he felt as if his body were decaying and burning at the same time. Desperately, he clawed at himself trying to dig them out even as his body fought to regenerate the damage, though it seemed that no sooner was something regenerated that the worms attacked it again.

Bach and his knights had not been so fortunate. Without his regenerative capabilities the worms had their full effect. They writhed on the ground screaming while clawing futilely at their armor. Mercifully, they finally fell silent. Their bodies looked as if they had spent years decaying in a marsh. The shaman gave a braying laugh and turned to Karl. Again it raised its staff.

"KARL!" Turning his head Karl was stunned to see Clare. Behind her everything confusion; some people were running some were fighting and the Beastmen were pressing them everywhere. Clare had somehow separated herself from the other women and children and had made her way through the fighting to here.

The shaman snorted in clear contempt and several of the Beastmen near them ran towards her, weapons at the ready. Karl tried to yell at her to run but all he could manage was another cry of pain as the worms continued their work.

Clare's eyes blazed with hate. She tried to say something but suddenly doubled over clutching her stomach, as if she were going to be sick, her breath came in deep ragged gasps. Just as the beasts drew near she drew herself upright. "Damn you all!" She screamed and thrust out her hands as if to shove her attackers away.

A ball of fire burst from her hands.

It incinerated the ones approaching her and continued on. The shaman turned in alarm. It waved its hands and frantically chanted. When the ball of fire reached it burst against a shimmering green shield. For a moment it held, and then it failed, the fire rolled over the shaman. It gave off one pain filled scream and then collapsed.

Once the impediment of the shield was gone the flames continued on. A column of Beastmen was coming up to reinforce those who were pressing the defenders; these took the full blast of the fire. More than a dozen were burned to ash in seconds; many more caught fire and rushed about and the column dissolved into chaos.

Karl did not know if was the death of the shaman or the heat of the flames but he felt the worms inside him die. With them gone his body was able to finally regenerate itself. Though his body was healing he was still very weak and when he tried to stand he found he could not. Clare had been staring at what she had done in shock. When she saw Karl struggling to stand she rushed to him. She managed to help him to his feet; he was surprised at the heat he felt from her body.

They managed to hobble and stumble back to their line. Without their reinforcements the enemy had been unable to take full advantage of the opening the shaman had made and had melted into the back alleys and streets. This had allowed the Baron to reform the line and prepare for the inevitable return of the enemy. A ragged cheer went up as Karl and Clare returned. Though Karl received more than one slap on the back the people seemed to be avoiding Clare.

When they reached the Baron he nodded respectfully to Karl and gave a look of speculation to Clare. "Well done you two. You've bought us some time. I don't suppose you could do that again?" This was directed at Clare. She nervously shook her head.

"I don't know how I did it the first time my lord."

The Baron nodded, "I feared as much."

Just then a great cry went up from the attackers. They were returning and more had come up. At the front was a gigantic Beastman. It was not as tall as the Minotaurs had been but it stood head and shoulders above those around it. It wore crude armor, composed of bits and pieces of human armor hammered together, and held a great two handed axe with glowing red runes that hurt Karl's eyes to look at. It raised its weapon over its head and gave a great cry which the rest of them echoed.

"So, their leader shows itself at last." The Baron said simply, though with a hint of despair in his voice. Karl understood why. He felt drained weary beyond belief from the shaman's attack and those around him looked even worse. There was no way they could hold off another assault. Then the enemy charged.

They slammed into the defenders like a tidal wave, the force literally throwing some men off their feet. The leader of the Beastmen swung his axe about, killing three or four men at a time. Some of the defenders were so weary they could barely raise their weapons and the foe cut them down with ease. Karl wearily made his way towards the leader; he did not have a chance, he did not even feel like he had enough strength to change into his wolven form, but the effort had to be made.

He became aware of a figure beside him. With a start he realized it was Ernst. They looked at one another and nodded. No words were spoken, none were needed. They reached the beast and threw themselves at it. The creature almost casually swung its axe at them. Karl tried to shove Ernst out of the way while he also attempted to spring aside.

He was only partially successful; neither of them was split in half but both were grazed. Karl felt the blade cut through skin and ribs but fail to reach his organs. He fell to the ground with a grunt of pain, to drained even to scream. To his dulled horror he saw Ernst crash into the wall of a nearby house, his entrails spilling from his ripped open stomach and the fire leaving his eyes. The Beastman snorted and turned towards the remaining humans.

"Sigmar aid me!" Ernst cried out in a gurgling voice as blood filled his lungs. Suddenly Karl was nearly blinded by a bright golden light that engulfed Ernst. When it faded Ernst was gone. In his place stood a tall man with long golden hair and stormy eyes; he was clad in archaic armor and held a hammer that blazed with runes of power. Karl knew in an instant who it was, his image was everywhere in the kingdom he had forged three thousand years ago.

Sigmar Heldenhammer, founder and god of the Empire!

The Beastman leader turned and shrank back in fear. Sigmar swung his hammer and the beast raised its axe to block. The two weapons met and the axe burst to pieces. The hammer continued on and took the beast's head clean off. All around the fighting ceased as both sides stared. Sigmar turned to take in the whole of the remaining defenders and he smiled a smile that contained both sadness and savage pride then he spoke in a deep voice that echoed those emotions. "Well done, my brave and precious children."

Then he turned to face the Beastmen and his face became a mask of such hate that Karl shuddered and the wolf inside him whined and tried to slink into the darkest corners of his mind. When Sigmar spoke again his voice now rang with hate. "Now, spawn of darkness you shall pay. For this night and all

the suffering your kind has inflicted upon my children!"

With that he fell upon them.

The beasts seemed too terrified to even defend themselves. Sigmar's hammer rose and fell again and again and soon dozens of dead Beastmen lay around him. It was too much, the beasts broke and fled. The god did not pursue them. He stood there for a moment and then began to shrink and wounds appear, within seconds Sigmar was gone and in his place stood Ernst who fell to the ground, dead.

Karl sat on a barrel and leaned against the wall of the stables, which had somehow not burned. It had been several days since the battle. Soon after the enemy had fled dawn had broken over the smoke blacked remains and the weary survivors. Around noon a relief column had arrived and had found the survivors wearily gather their dead and seeing to the wounded.

More than half the people in the town were dead and many were injured. Of Bach's knights only eight remained of the original thirty. Much of the town had been burned and Karl fancied that some of it would be abandoned, as would doubtless many of the smaller villages and farms and the forest and the creatures that lurked within would spread further into the lands of men.

Karl tried to banish such gloomy thoughts and tried to think of the appearance of Sigmar that had saved them. Ernst's body had lain on the temple's alter and some were already whispering of canonizing him. Karl wasn't sure he liked the idea of Ernst as a saint; he did not think Ernst would have liked it either. He was happy though that Ernst had found what he was looking for.

The sound of someone approaching drew his attention. Turning his head he smiled as he saw Clare approaching. After the battle the Baron had taken her to his manor house. Just as well, ever since the battle people seemed uneasy around her. She was wearing a brown traveling dress and her face was a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

"Hello Clare I am glad to see you, I am afraid I have not had the opportunity to thank you properly for saving my life."

She blushed. "Oh it was hardly more than what you did for me." She paused for a moment and then said. "I wanted to see so I could say goodbye."

"Goodbye;" asked Karl, sitting up straight in surprise, "where are you going?"

"To Altdorf;" she said and in her voice he heard the same mixture of excitement and nervousness he had felt when he left his own village, "The Baron has agreed to sponsor me to study Fire Magic at the Colleges of Magic there." This last was said in an even more nervous voice. Karl just smiled.

"That was very generous of him; and it seems there will be no tavern work for you."

She smiled a smile that showed a great deal of relief and she let out the breath she had been holding ever since she had told him where she was going.

"Yes it was very generous of him;" she paused again and spoke in a tone that was a mixture of fear and awe, "I never imagined this, me, a Fire Wizard."

"Indeed;" said Karl, then his voice took on a tone of concern, "But you know this will mean you'll probably be in battle again."

Her face became solemn. "I know, the Baron told me that too. But I have no choice; all magic users have to go to the Colleges or be hunted by the witch hunters." She shuddered at the thought of those dreaded figures and Karl felt a flash of anger at the thought of one of them hurting Clare. "Besides," continued Clare, "The Baron said that we all have a duty to use our abilities to serve the Empire and we who have magical ability are more able to do so many; and I want to." Here her voice took on a hard edge and for a moment she looked dangerous and Karl felt the air become hotter. "I want to take all those things in the woods and burn them to ashes."

Then she shook herself, the look vanished and the air cooled. "Beside;" she said in a joking manner, evidently eager to change the subject, "Now we can both be heroes of the Empire."

Karl gave a small smile. Her words reminding him of something Marx had said 'In the eyes of the world you are a monster and monsters don't get to be heroes. '"Well, you can be one at least." He told her.

She looked at him. "I don't know if either of us will ever been famous but you are and will always be a hero to me. You saved me and gave me a chance to be more than I ever thought I could be. Whatever happens I'll always be grateful." She came over and kissed him, her breath made hot by the fire that now burned inside her.

"My lady it is time to go." This came from a boy dressed as a groom. At Karl's questioning look Clare explained.

"The Baron knows some of the knights in the relief column; they agreed to let me travel with them when they returned to Altdorf. She gave him a last smile of farewell and then departed.

Karl watched her go sadly. He would miss her a great deal. Still it was probably for the best, what would he have done taken her with him on whatever dangerous jobs Marx sent him on? Leave her here to be a tavern girl? No, this way she had a chance to be more than she had ever thought possible. True, as he had told her, her life would be far more dangerous. Then he looked at the burned town and beyond to the dark woods, was anyone of them ever truly safe?

His musings were interrupted by the approach of a second young man dress as a groom. He paid the fellow little attention till he stopped in front of Karl. "I bring a message from our master, the one you know as Marx. He is currently in the City of Nuln and he commands you come to him there. Follow me I have provisions and two horses saddled."

It seemed Marx could find him after all.

**Author's Notes: Halleluiah! I was beginning to think that I would never get to the end of this chapter. Well, that wraps up this particular adventure, hope you all think it was worth the wait. For those of you not familiar with Warhammer Fantasy let me explain a few things in the chapter. 1.) Minotaurs are described as twice as tall as a man and yes they will stop in the middle of battle to eat, they're not very bright. 2.) In the online game a priest's eyes will blaze like that; in the lore of the Empire Sigmar has occasionally manifested himself through someone to turn the tide of battle, probably not in an unimportant battle like this but I wanted to give Ernst a good send off. 3.) Magic is divided into eight lores, Marx practices the Lore of Shadows and Clare is going to study the Lore of Fire, humans can only master one lore. The collages that teach magic are all in or near Altdorf. Anyone who can do magic has to be trained and licensed from these or they are targeted by the witch hunters; who consider any non-licensed spell user a witch. 4.) In the Empire magic has only been legal for about two hundred of its three thousand year history those who can do it are usually feared and shunned. Now finally I have a few questions. 1.) Did the battle live up to my hype? 2.) Did I do a good job of fleshing out Ernst and Clare? 3.) Was it worth the wait? Please let me know in the reviews. Please keep praying and may Jesus bless you all till next time. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes: Hello again here is the beginning of a new adventure in which Marx is sneaky, Wilhelmina is rude and Karl does most of the work. Don't worry if you have been missing it. Karl's werewolf form will be making an appearance in the next couple of chapters. Oh yes as always I own nothing but the creations of my own mind.**

The ride south to Nuln took the better part of a fortnight and was uneventful. Karl and the silent groom, if in fact that what the man was, rode along the main road from Altdorf to Nuln. This was well used and patrolled and almost every night was spent in an inn. The man rarely spoke and when he did he did so in as few words as possible and Karl eventually gave up trying to speak to him.

After having been to Altdorf Karl was not as taken aback as he would otherwise have been. He was ready for the size, sights and sounds of the city. What was different was that the clouds of smoke hanging over the city were even thicker here. Also more prevalent were the smells of soot, oil and black powder as well as other smells he could not identify.

His guide seemed unaffected by it all and Karl imitated his manner. They rode through the streets till they came to the front of a dilapidated house in the cities slums, though the tingling of Karl's witch sight told him there was more than met the eye. "He awaits you inside." The man said who then turned and rode off.

Karl dismounted, tied his horse to a rotting post and then knocked on the door. It was opened by Marx himself. The man gave Karl a welcoming smile that lacked any real feeling. "Karl my boy, how good to see you again. Come in. Come in."

He bustled Karl inside and took him into a back room. It was as run down as the rest of the house and gave no sign that anyone lived here. "Nice place," he muttered dryly; "You seem to have gone down in the world since Altdorf."

"Oh," said a voice he would quite happily have never heard again; "The doggie is trying to be funny. A word of advice, stick to mutilation and leave humor to those with the wit for it. By the way, I hid your horse in the back. Around here you aren't the only one who might mistake it for dinner." Turning his head wearily he saw Wilhelmina enter the room, her usual sneer firmly in place.

"Enough," said Marx impatiently; "We have important work ahead of us and I will not have it endangered by your childishness." Wilhelmina sat down abashed and did not look at Karl again, as if it were somehow his fault she had been chastised. Marx looked at them for a moment and then, apparently satisfied that his point had been made, began to speak again.

"As I was about to say we have an important task to perform tonight. Its success could go a long way towards neutralizing a great threat to the Empire."

"Does it have to do with what I did for you before?" Karl asked. Marx shook his head.

"No; this is another matter entirely. Tonight I shall be attending a ball given by a friend of mine. Among the guests are two individuals of great interest to me. They are the Lady Maria DeMark of Bretonnia and her ward Helena Schmitt. At least, that's who they tell people they are." Here Marx's voice turned solemn. "They are in fact vampires of the Lahmian bloodline."

Karl shuddered. He did not understand what Marx was talking about when he spoke of bloodlines but he knew what vampires were well enough. He remembered the tales told of the Aristocracy of the Night and the wars they had waged against the living in the past. He did not like the thought of sharing a city with them.

"I see you appreciate the severity of what we are up against." Marx said. "But in truth; the danger they present to us is not terribly great. DeMark is very low in the ranks of their dreaded sisterhood and Schmitt, as her get, is even lower."

"Her what?" Karl asked.

"Her get," said Marx; "It means DeMark was the one who turned her into a vampire. Now as I was saying they shall be at the ball and so shall the three of us." The next hour was spent making plans.

An hour or so before sunset Karl went to the address of where the party was to be given. As instructed he went to the back where he found a door unlocked. Inside was a silent boy of about ten who guided him to an upstairs bedroom. At the back of the room was a large wardrobe; after the boy had left he changed into his wolven form and climbed in and settled in to wait.

He did not know how long he waited there. Below he heard the sounds of music and laughter as the ball got underway. It seemed so odd to Karl that in one part of the Empire people were barely clinging onto their lives while at the same time people feasted and made merry in others. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, it was almost time.

As he had expected when the door opened he could hear Marx's voice. Crouching down, he could look through the keyhole and see into the room. There was Marx dressed in the colorful and flamboyant garb which was all the court fashion at the time, he was even wearing cosmetics. With him were two women.

Karl suppressed the urge to growl. They were not human. The smell was all wrong. Oh, it was so faint no human could smell it and they covered themselves with perfume, but he could smell it, the smell of decay, of the grave they had cheated. Their smell was not as rank as that of the Beastmen but it was just as unnatural.

He studied them as they down on couch facing Marx who took a chair opposite them, perfect. The one closed to him looked about forty or so. She had wheat colored hair elaborately made up and wore a dress of deep blue which was not complementary to her slightly stout figure and an abundance of jewelry. The other looked about twenty or so. She was far slimmer than her companion and slightly taller. Her hair was jet black and done in a long braid down her back. She wore a dress of light green and little jewelry.

"Well," said the first with a strange accent; "It has been a pleasant evening but you told us you had something of importance to tell us; one would almost suspect you of luring us here for immoral purposes." All three laughed, though none with sincerity.

"Indeed I did," Marx said; "And indeed I do." Here his voice lost its tone of joviality. "I fear Madam DeMark you will not be finishing your trip to Marienburg."

That was the signal. Karl burst from the wardrobe and hurled himself towards his target. The vampires were fast, the fastest things he had ever faced. The distance was less than ten feet yet still DeMark managed to dodge his first attack and began hissing as magic gathered in her hands. Then Marx threw a piece of paper into the air and chanted a quick phrase. The paper instantly crumbled to dust but the magic faded from DeMark's hands.

Before she could react Karl was on her. With his left hand he grabbed her right forearm, his head shot forward to bite down onto her skull and his right hand he thrust, fingers straight, into her rib cage. It broke through the bones to grasp her heart. He tore it out at the same time he ripped off her head.

He had no time to savor his triumph however. Turning, he saw that luck had favored him. Helena had frozen when he first appeared, apparently undecided whether she should help her mistress or run. She now tried to run, but it was too late. Karl bounded up and was after her. She turned and slashed at him with fingers that had suddenly produced claws. The blow was surprisingly strong, but it was poorly aimed. They racked his muzzle, which was quite painful but did no real damage, rather than going for his eyes or throat.

He ignored the pain and tackled her to the ground. They landed with him atop her. He quickly straddled her; pinning her arms while he latched his jaws on her throat. Per Marx's instructions he did not snap his jaws shut, in fact, the teeth did not even break the skin.

Marx walked up to them calmly, as if a life and death struggle had not just taken place. "Fascinating creature isn't he?" He asked, reaching out to stroke Karl's fur. Karl growled in irritation which seemed to further frighten the vampire in his grasp. "Now then," said Marx as he used a handkerchief to wipe the cosmetics from his face; "I was hoping we might have ourselves a little chat. You see, I know you and your mistress are not stationed here in Nuln. That you two are in fact couriers of your Queen; so tell me, who were you delivering messages to? Where are the members of your coven in this city?"

"Go to hell!" She spat. "I will never tell you!" Though her words were defiant Karl could smell the fear on her. Even if he had not been able to the fear was evident in her eyes and voice.

"Oh dear," said Marx, effecting a sorrowful tone of voice; "I really did not it to come to this." He nodded at Karl who began to slowly tighten his jaws. Her skin was elastic and gave way as his teeth came closer together; the smell of her fear was almost overwhelming. Finally her skin could stretch no further and his teeth punctured her skin with a series of small pops.

"It was too much for her. "Call it off!" She screamed wildly.

"You are ready to answer my questions?" Marx asked in amiable tone of voice.

"Yes! Yes! Just call the beast off!"

"Very well." Marx said in a cheery voice. He made a gesture with his hand and Karl let go of her throat. He could not resist; as he pulled his head back he suddenly shot it forward to snap his jaws shut inches from her face, causing her to flinch back. He rose to his feet and went to stand behind Marx, who indicated for Helena to return to the couch. Slowly she did so, keeping as much distance between herself and Karl as possible, and sat down rubbing her throat.

"Now," said Marx briskly; "I believe you were going to name some names?" For a moment she looked as though she might refuse to speak after all; but the sight of Marx beginning to make a gesture towards Karl changed her mind. She began to speak in a defeated voice.

"We were sent here to deliver messages to three of our sisters here in Nuln. Margret Hildar, wife of the Chief Secretary of the Imperial Gunnery School. Erika Holst, who is posing as a Sister of Shallya at one of the city's poorhouses. Finally, Elisa Roseanna, the mistress of General Hobbs. We delivered the last of them tonight and were to travel on to Marienburg tomorrow night."

"My, my," said Marx with a sigh; "It really is enough to make you despair of the men of my species. Well, regardless, you have been most helpful and for that I thank you."

"What happens to me now?" She asked nervously, eyeing Karl.

"Oh yes, I suppose we really must discuss that." Marx said. "Well things will go on much as before, you will continue on your way and deliver the messages you were told to deliver; and you will continue to deliver messages until you are given a new assignment. You shall do that one as well and so, in the nature of your kind, work your way up the hierarchy of your sisterhood. There will, in fact, be only one significant difference." Here his voice turned hard and cold. "You now serve me, not Neferata. When you receive messages to deliver you shall report to me their contents. If they are sealed, you shall tell me where and to whom you delivered them.

"If and when you are promoted you shall report to me your assignments and where ever you go you shall report to me all of the vampires you meet."

"Why should I do any of these things?" Helena hissed; though her voice still held fear her body shook with outrage and her eyes blazed with hate.

"It is quite simple." Marx said calmly, completely ignoring her rage. "While I keep you company tonight our friend here," he reached over and stroked Karl's back like one would a dog; "Is going to create three vacancies here in the city." Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, don't worry; I'll make certain that no blame attaches to you. When the other Lahmians investigate they will find evidence that the work is the Von Carsteins, no one will suspect you.

"However," and here his voice grew hard again; "If you ever attempt to betray me, you will regret it. If I am in a good mood at the time I will kill you myself. If I am not in a good mood I will send the beast; and if I am angry I will ensure that word of your treachery to the Sisterhood reaches the Silver Mountain." Helena's pale face became even paler and her eyes revealed a terror that surpassed that elicited by Karl. "Yes," said Marx in a dark voice; "I doubt your former queen would take your betrayal of her at all well. Now, do we understand each other?"

"Yes." She said in a defeated voice.

"Yes what?" Asked Marx; in the tone of a schoolmaster addressing a slow pupil.

"Yes," she paused and forced the next word out; "Master."

"Very good," said Marx cheerily; "Now one more introduction is required." He raised a small bell from the table and rang it. A side door opened in walked Wilhelmina. She had donned a wig of blond hair that came down to her shoulders and she wore clothing that made her look like a lady's maid. "This," said Marx to Helena;" Is my apprentice Wilhelmina. She shall be accompanying you for a time to set up channels by which I can contact you and you can send messages. Before you get any ideas in your head; she may only be an apprentice but I can assure you she is more than capable of handling herself."

"Wilhelmina walked up to Helena and curtsied, all the while giving her an evil smirk. "Please believe me 'My Lady,'" the bit last was delivered in a tone of mocking reverence; "I am ready, willing and able to kill you in ways far beyond the beast's dull mind." Though the vampire was taller and stronger than Wilhelmina she shrank back, clearly cowed by the smaller woman.

"Well that's all settled." Said Marx I believe it is best if you two go and begin making sure all necessary arrangements have been made." Wilhelmina gave a short bow to Marx and then glared at Helena till she gave one as well. Once they had departed Karl changed back into his human form.

"Well done my boy," said Marx handing him a small glass of wine; "Things could not have gone better."

"You're taking a big risk with her." Karl said, made uncomfortable by the fact he was stark naked. "You should have just let me kill her once she told you what you wanted to know."

Marx gave a mock sigh. "My dear boy at times you and Wilhelmina are so much alike." This remark caused Karl to growl in annoyance and grip his glass harder. "If we did that then we would lose a valuable source of intelligence. These creatures have eyes and ears in the places of power throughout the Empire and beyond; controlling that thing will give us the ability to learn where they are and move to thwart their schemes."

"Creatures, thing? Karl asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." Marx said and there was both hate and loathing in his voice. "Don't be fooled by their appearance they are as much monsters as the demons of the Ruinous Powers."

"You said I was a monster as well." Karl said, slightly taken aback by the venom in Marx's voice.

"Yes, you are a monster, but not in spirit. These creatures have forsaken their humanity, many willingly, and some even now plot the destruction of the world of the living. Even those who don't seek to enslave us and rule from the shadows and behind puppets. That is why we must fight them with every tool we have. If we do not we shall fail and the world will plunge into eternal night."

He paused and when he spoke again his tone was lighter. "But enough of such grim talk; there is work to be done. The night is still young but you have three vampires to slay. I would get to it."

**Author's Notes: Well what did you think? A bit low on action but more is coming promise. Now for a bit of a lesson. Bretonnia is the Empire's neighbor and at times rival. The vampires are divided into five bloodlines, actually this got changed a bit but I am sticking to the original. Each has its own goals and characteristics. The Lahmians are primarily female and seek, like those named to get into positions where they can control the world from the shadows. The queen mentioned is the first vampire and created the founders of the other bloodlines, thus she considers all vampires her subjects and this has caused much strife with the other bloodlines. The Von Carsteins are the Lahmians main rivals; they are based on Count Dracula. They also seek to rule the mortal world. Though they favor more direct methods at times, the launched the War of the Vampire Counts, three invasions of the Empire that Marx mentioned. They spend much time trying to hamper each other, even exposing the each other to witch hunters. Now just a quick question for you all. Do you think Karl is having it all his own way too easily, should his opponents be harder to beat? Please give me your answer in the reviews. Bye for now, please keep praying for Shawn and all who need it and may Jesus bless you all till next time.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone. Thanks for the reviews. As always I own nothing but the characters I create.**

Karl adjusted his collar for what seemed the hundredth time. After Marx had given him his orders he had provided Karl with a suit of clothes of the latest fashion. Afterwards he had gone down and exited the servants' stairs to find a two horse carriage waiting for him. As per his instructions Karl told the driver to take him to the home of Chief Secretary Hildar.

Through means that he did not share with Karl Marx knew that Hildar himself would not be at home that night but that his wife Margret, the vampire and Karl's target, would be. Marx had considered having Karl dispose of the husband as well but had finally decided not to. The man was well connected and his death would lead to too many questions being asked. Besides, he was a valuable resource to the Lahmians; no doubt they would send another of their kind to replace Margret, enabling Marx and his associates to monitor her.

Upon arriving at the large house in the best part of town he went up the steps and knocked. The door was opened by a middle age butler.

"May I help you sir?" He asked in deferential tone of voice.

"Yes," said Karl, trying to sound haughty and self-important; "I have a message for Frau Hildar from her good friend Sister Holst."

This had been Marx's idea. He had learned from his friend that the two were often in each other's company. Ostensibly, it was due to Frau Hildar's interest in Sister Holst's charitable work; but in reality it was so the two could meet and exchange messages. In her guise as a priestess of Shallya Holst could go anywhere in the city, from the highest quarters to the lowest slums. This made her the perfect candidate to oversee communication and coordination of all the Lahmians in the city.

The butler bowed and ushered him in. In the hallway he took Karl's hat and coat. He politely asked Karl to wait there while he announced him. Presently, the butler returned and ushered Karl up a grand staircase and showed him into a ladies sitting room.

The room had wood panels and heavy scarlet drapes. The furniture was made of some white wood and appeared gilded. Sitting on a chair, with a maid brushing her hair, was the lady of the house. She looked to be about thirty-five, of medium height and fair complexion and long blond hair. She wore clothes that look like they cost more than his whole village.

She did not fool him though. He could smell it, the stink of the grave. She was one of them.

"You have a message for me from dear Sister Holster?" She asked in a high class tone of voice.

"No." Said Karl. He felt the vampire stiffen.

"What?" She said, her voice becoming cold and harsh.

Karl smiled and allowed just his canines to extend. "The lords of Sylvania send their regards." So saying; he sprang forward. As he did so he drew the rapier Marx had given him. As the blade left its sheath he saw the glint of silver along the blade.

As soon as he had spoken she had sprung to her feet, knocking the startled maid to the floor. Her own canines extended and her fingernails became claws. Hissing like a feral cat she sprang at him. This proved to be a mistake on her part. While he was not at his strongest in his human form; Karl was at least as strong as she was and the sword gave him reach.

It took her in the throat, the silver burning her flesh as it slid in. She fell to the ground, injured but still hissing and spitting. He went down on one knee and thrust his hand into her chest. His hand broke through her ribs and wrapped around her heart. Karl tore it loose and, tossing it to the ground, shredded it with his sword.

"Mistress!" Screamed the maid; running to the side of the corpse. Karl, his blood up, had the urge to attack the girl as well; but he restrained himself. Marx had said he needed to leave at least one survivor who could tell the Lahmians when they investigated that a vampire, or at least a creature that looked like a vampire, and claiming to be from Sylvania had been the one to kill Hilder. When they learned of the other deaths planned for tonight they would conclude they were all the work of the same killer and that killer served the Von Carsteins.

Turning, he walked from the room. As he left the butler came running, no doubt drawn by the screams. Karl just grabbed him and threw him to the side. He left the house and entered the carriage.

His next target was Elisa Roseanna, the mistress of General Hobbs.

He exited the carriage several streets away from the house. Keeping to the shadows he approached till he was across the street from the house. There he crouched down and waited. Marx had told him that General Hobbs and Roseanna attended the theater nearly every night. He figured that an ambush along the way would be easier than attacking them in their house.

Marx's instructions here had been clear, Hobbs was to die. He had given military information and advice to the Lahmians and that was not to be tolerated. Furthermore; he was soon to be placed in charge of the city's defenses, such a position could not be held by one controlled by the vampires.

He was not there long before the gate opened and a carriage rolled out. It turned right and headed down the street, Karl in pursuit. The carriage set a brisk pace but Karl had little difficulty keeping pace, fortunately there were few people about at that hour. Still, Karl had to act fast. They were rapidly approaching the wall that separated the homes of the upper class from the rest of the city. If he waited too long to strike then the guards would be alerted by the noise and he did not want them getting involved.

Finally, as the carriage slowed to make a turn, he saw his chance and struck. He burst from the shadows and sprinted forward. As he did so he drew the dagger that was the companion of the rapier, its shorter length was better suited for the confines of the carriage and like the rapier the dagger was edged with silver.

He must not have been as silent as he thought he was because the carriage driver turned and looked in his direction.

"What are you…" he began and then saw the dagger in the moon light; "Attack! We're being attacked!"

Karl, with a final spring, burst into the carriage, but he had lost the element of surprise and the occupants were waiting for him. There were two people in the carriage; one looked like a girl of about twenty dressed in a bright red dress with an elaborate mass of blond curls held up by several jeweled combs.

What grab Karl's attention most, however, was the dagger that she was trying to gut him with. Despite her rich cloths and general appearance of being a rich man's plaything she wielded her blade with the skill of a veteran alley-fighter. In fact he quickly realized she was a better knife fighter than he was, especially since he was only half-way into the carriage and had to use one hand to hold onto the side to keep from falling out, and received several cuts to his arm, hand and face.

With all his attention focused on the vampire he forgot all about the other occupant. At least, he forgot about the other occupant until the individual in question stabbed him in the face with a rapier. Fortunately, Karl had been jerking his head to avoid another dagger thrust, so the blade, instead of going into his eye, only scrapped along his forehead.

Whipping his head from side to side, in an effort to get the blood out of his eyes, Karl took in his second attacker out of the corner of his eye. The man was dressed in what appeared to be some kind of uniform. He seemed about fifty with receding gray hair and a small moustache.

Just then things took an unexpected turn. The carriage jerked to a stop and the driver jumped down and shot off, screaming for the Watch. While Karl had wanted to avoid having the Watch getting involved, it was not all bad. With the carriage halted he was able to stand up and use both his hands.

When the vampire struck again Karl raised his left hand, palm up. Her dagger went right thru his hand. He yelped in pain but kept his head and twisted his hand down and to the side. This made the injury worse and sent fresh waves of pain through his hand and arm but it achieved his objective. The dagger was jerked from her hand and she fell forward. Seizing his chance, Karl lunged forward. Dropping his dagger he seized her head in both hands and tore into her throat with his teeth. He kept biting and tearing until her head fell from her shoulders.

"Elisa!" Hobbs screamed in a voice filled with grief and rage. He lunged at Karl with his sword. His strike, while delivered with all the strength the man could muster, was poorly aimed and failed to hit anything vital. Still, it hurt and Karl, his blood up already, turned on the man.

He seized the man by the arm with his left hand and with his right hand tore the man's throat out. As he let the body fall to the ground he heard the clatter of boots approaching. Turning, he saw that the carriage driver had returned and with him were four men in the uniform of the City Watch.

"Sigmar save us!" Said one of them in a terrified voice, gazing at the mutilated corpses.

Karl longed to attack them. The wolf howled, demanding more blood. But these men were not his enemies. They were his fellow defenders of the Empire, though they did not know it. Turning he dashed into the darkness.

He had one final target; Erika Holst, the false priestess. He was glad this was his last task for the night was nearly over, dawn was not far away and he did not fancy having the entire city after him. He wanted this done and done quickly.

As his cloths were torn and bloody he did not bother trying to gain an audience. He clambered onto the roof of the building employed by the vampire as a hospice. He could smell the vampire, she was there. Fortunately, while he could also smell humans, all those scents were old. The vampire was alone, excellent.

He swung down and crashed through a window; determined to surprise the creature and slay it swiftly. This hope was disappointed when a blast of magical energy struck him full in the chest, slamming hard against the wall. As he shook his head to clear it he heard footsteps approaching.

Turning to his left he saw the vampire approaching. She looked like a woman of forty; clad in the vestments of the Sisters of Shallya with a face that radiated a calmness and serenity. Or, it would do so, if it were not fixed in a sneer that was a mixture of anger and contempt.

"So; not content to murder my sister Margaret, you have come for me as well. You Carstein filth should stay in your castles and terrorize peasants. The servants of the Queen are not so easily intimidated."

Karl got to his feet and drew his sword. "Your knowledge of this evenings activities is impressive; I don't suppose you would care to tell me how you found out so quickly?" He said in a questioning voice.

She snorted. "I think not." She said, in a superior tone of voice.

"Ah, well," Karl said; "Though I don't mind telling you that your information is not complete. Elisa Roseanna, I fear, has also moved on; or, to be more accurate, has been moved on."

Her eyes grew dark with hate. "You'll pay for this, whelp, you and your masters."

"We'll see about that." Said Karl as he advanced on her, hoping to take her before she could cast another spell; he found most casters had to stay pretty stationary when they cast, so hopefully he could reach her in time. She smiled a smile as cold as the depths of the sea.

"Yes, we will see indeed." Maybe it was something in her voice, or maybe she cocked her head to look to the side. Whatever the reason; he suddenly felt dander approaching. He threw himself forward and just in time.

Fast as a snake a blade, like his edged with silver, shot into the space where his throat had been a moment before. There was a second vampire! Karl cursed and wondered if Helena did not know about the second one or if she had 'forgotten' to tell them, if the later she would pay.

His attacker stepped into the light and he got a good look at her. She was tall, as tall as he was. She looked about twenty with Estalian look to her; she had gray eyes and brown hair cut short as a boy's. She wore riding boots, britches and a white shirt.

What Karl paid most attention to, however, were her weapons. Like him, she wielded a rapier; unlike him in her left hand, as opposed to the dagger he had, she wielded a main gauche, a weapon specifically designed to be used in the left had as a parrying weapon. From her stance and the way she held her weapons Karl could see that her skill with them was far superior to his own.

When she struck it became even more obvious that this was so. He had thought himself fast but he seemed to move as slowly compared to her as the Orcs and Beastmen did to him. She seemed to flow and glide and the speed and skill with which she wielded her weapons was almost beautiful to watch.

Or it would have been; if those weapons were not being used to try to kill him. They traded blows for several minutes and he did not land a single blow on her. Every time he struck at her she either glided out of the way or caught his blows with her main gauche; which she would then follow up with by twisting his blade to the side and striking out with her own.

Unlike his own blows, which were powerful but lacked skill, hers' were a vision of what a fencer should be and soon he was bleeding from a half dozen cuts. Though none of the blows in question were fatal they were all caused by silver and soon he began to feel woozy and sick. Though he knew his wounds would eventually regenerate it was slower with wounds caused by silver and he was losing a lot of blood. That was her strategy, he realized, it was just like the bull-fights of her homeland. She was not going for a single fatal stroke; but rather setting him up for the kill by first weakening him with a number of smaller wounds.

It was working too. He knew there was no way he could defeat her like this, the difference in their levels of skill were just too great. He had to change the shape of the battle.

He began to back-peddle, trying to put some distance between them. Off to the side Holst laughed in mockery. "Dear me, whatever were your masters thinking sending an untrained runt like you? Or do they even know you are here? Perhaps you thought to make a name for yourself by killing us. If so, you failed. Isabella, finish him!"

Isabella lunged at him, blade aimed for his heart. He jumped to the side and threw his dagger. It missed of course but it enabled him to put a few feet between them. He took a deep breath and began to perform the change.

It was more difficult than usual; it was made so by the presence of silver in his wounds. But he would not be denied and the wolf was eager as well. He lunged forward; claws slashing at his opponent, she dodged it and he received another wound but he was able to complete his change.

He now towered over her and he lunged forward. Her response took him by surprise; instead of panicking she remained calm, her only change was to move back several feet so as to put herself outside of his reach; and so the fight resumed.

He found to his surprise the fight had not changed much at all. Every other time the change had pretty much wrapped up the fight for him; here his opponent was proving just as difficult as before. While he was now faster than before and her left-handed weapon had difficulty cutting through his thick hide to reach flesh; she still managed to avoid most of his blows; for while she could no longer turn aside his blows she could ensure those that did hit her were only grazes.

More often he would strike at her with clawed hand or snap at her with his jaws and she would no longer be there and a new wound would suddenly sprout somewhere on his body. He saw that strength alone would not win this fight, he needed a plan. Then one came to him.

Throughout the fight Holst had not intervened in the fight; he had had been confused by this as her magic could have ensured her get's victory. When he had had the chance he had looked her way and had seen her watching the fight as one would watch a play. He had also noticed that Isabella always moved to keep herself between Holst and him which gave him an idea.

He struck at Isabella again and as before she dodged. Instead of pursuing her, however, he turned and dashed toward Holst. Holst gave a cry of alarm and moved to get out of the way. In a flash Isabella was between them but this time she could not move out of the way of his charge because that would expose Holst to attack. As he closed with her she thrust out with her sword. His hand came out and caught the blade. He howled in pain as the blade sliced through his flesh to scrape along the bones of his hand and fingers.

His momentum carried him on and he crashed into her, his weight bearing them both to the ground. As they hit the ground he tore the sword from her hand and threw it away. As his head shot forward to bite her throat out she slashed with her other weapon, slicing his nose open.

He yelped in pain as blood filled his nose and leaked down his throat. Without thinking he let go of Isabella and grasped his nose with both hands. She took advantage of this by grasping her remaining weapon in both hands and driving it into his stomach

His roar this time was more rage than pain. While the blade was not long enough to go deep enough in to cause damage it did cause a great deal of pain; which, combined with all the pain had had endured throughout the fight was making it harder and harder to focus. He released his ruined nose with his left hand; his right still hurt abominably, and brought it down on her head. It slammed her head back onto the floor and he heard bones break.

Before he could make sure she was dead he heard chanting, apparently Holst had decided to join the fight after all. An active enemy took priority; he sprang from Isabella's still form and rushed at Holst. She completed her spell and a bolt of magical energy shot towards him. He dropped to the floor to avoid it and it sailed over him, heat from it singeing his fur. Not bothering to get to his feet he shot forward on all fours.

She did not try to cast again and seemed intent on getting away. She was fast but not as fast as Isabella. He rushed up and with a swipe of his hand knocked her off her feet. She screamed and struggled but it did her no good. He planted his knees on her back, grabbed her head with both hands and pulled. With a sickening, wet snapping sound her head tore from her shoulders.

With the fight won all the adrenaline drained from Karl and he slumped to the ground. He lay there panting as he slowly caught his breath and the pain of his wounds eased to a throb. Presently he turned to look at Isabella. Before he left he would have to make sure she was dead, slowly he started to get to his feet.

Just then a pounding was heard at the door. "Sister Holst! This is the Watch! There have been reports of a disturbance here! Open the door!"

Karl cursed. _Not now! Not now!_ He thought. Just then the pounding increased.

"Open the door or we shall force it open!" The Watch immediately put action to threat and Karl heard the thud of an axe striking the door. He had no choice; he could not get into a fight with the Watch. He turned and threw himself out a window. He hit the ground running.

As dawn was breaking he had to sacrifice his dignity and return to his human form and crouch in an alley naked. As he crouched there he listened to the sound of the Watch as they continued to try to force their way in. After several more blows the door gave way. They rushed in. He soon heard their cries as they found Holst's body. He could not tell if they had found Isabella's body as well, or even if there was a body to find.

He had to get back report to Marx; but how was he to get from here to where Marx was as he was stark naked? Just then he heard a rustling behind him. He whirled around, half expecting to find Isabella coming for him. Instead he found himself looking at the sleeping form of a drunk wrapped in a soiled cloak. Less than a minute later Karl was dashing down the alley, the cloak wrapped around him.

He first went to the run down house where he had first met Marx. There, as he had hoped, he found more cloths. Afterwards; he followed his own scent back to the house where the night had begun. As before the back door was unlocked. The party was obviously long over and the only people he saw were servants cleaning up. He reached the room upstairs and slipped.

Marx was sitting there as if he hadn't moved since Karl had left. He turned to look at Karl as he slipped in and collapsed into a chair. He arched his eyebrow as Karl, without an invitation, grabbed the wine and began drinking it straight out of the bottle.

"Difficult night my boy?" He asked dryly.

"You could say that," said Karl as he searched the room for something to eat, he found suddenly he was quite hungry; "Where is the vampire?"

"She has retired for the day, Wilhelmina I keeping an eye on her, why?"

"I want to have a little talk with her."

"May I ask why?" Marx asked, his tone suggesting he wasn't really asking.

"She forgot to tell us a thing or two, that's why."

"What things?" Marx's tone had gone very hard.

"That Holst had a get, that's what."

"What?" Said Marx, his tone going even harder.

"Yes, a get, and the thing fought harder than that whole orc war band I fought back in my village!"

"But your mission was successful?" Marx pressed. Karl nodded and then proceeded to recount the night's events, leaving nothing out. When he had finished Marx sat back in his chair, deep in thought. At last he spoke. "Well done my boy, you fulfilled your duties admirably. Unfortunate that this other vampire may still be alive but the elimination of Holst was the primary objective there; and who knows, there may be away to turn this to our advantage." This last was said in a speculative voice and he was clearly talking more to himself than to Karl.

Eventually he returned his attention to Karl. "You have done well. I have no further need for you at present and it may be best if you left the city for a time. Doubtless the Lahmians have, or soon will have a description of you and will be scouring the city and the surrounding area looking for you. It would be best if you were gone from here and stayed gone till the hue and cry has died down. I will send for you when I have more work for you."

Taking the hint Karl rose to his feet and accepted the purse of coins Marx handed him. As he headed to the door he stopped and turned. "How do you think Holst knew about the earlier attack and what about Helena?"

"I have a theory about the first and will be looking into it. As for the vampire," here his voice grew cold; "I shall speak to it before it leaves the city and if I find it knew about the second vampire and failed to tell us it will learn that I am no more to be crossed than its former mistress."

Karl departed with a shudder.

**Author's Notes: Hoped you all liked it. Was planning to kill Isabella but she grew on me while writing her so we may see her again. Regarding her homeland think Renaissance Spain. Please pray for Shawn and all who need it. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Notes: Hey everyone, thanks for the reviews I am glad that people are enjoying my writing. As always I own nothing but what springs form my imagination.**

Karl rode out of the city gates shortly after they opened. He was still quite tired from his night's activities and would have liked a day or two to rest but Marx thought it would be better if he left at once. Doubtless word was already spreading among the city's remaining Lahmians, if it had not already done so. While they themselves could not do anything till after sundown they had many servants and spies who would not be hampered by the sun and it would not do for Karl to be seen, so off he went.

While his abrupt departure and lack of sleep did little to improve Karl's temper he found he could not stay grumpy for long. He had the open road, a horse, which Marx had let him keep, and money in his purse, also from Marx. Indeed Marx had been quite generous in his payment and Karl would not lack for money for some time, if he could just find a place where he could spend it before everything tried to kill him or he was compelled to leave in a hurry.

He had lingered in the city long enough to acquire fresh supplies so there was no problem there. Marx had not said when he would be needing Karl again and in any event he had shown that he could find Karl when the time came. For now, all Karl had to do was pick a direction and start riding.

He briefly considered returning to Altdorf and seeing if he could visit Claire but in the end dismissed the idea. He wasn't even sure if students could receive visitors and he did not want to risk being exposed. While Marx had explained that not every magic user could see what he was with witch sight he was fairly certain that in an entire collage there would be one or two that could. He shuddered at the image in his mind of him fleeing through the city streets of the capital with a host of wizards hot on his heels hurling fire balls at him.

That caused a second and even more depressing thought. What if after her studies Claire developed the ability to detect that he was not human? He could all too easily imagine her opinion of him deteriorating with depressing speed. No, he finally decided, he did not want to go to Altdorf.

Instead he went east towards Averheim, capital of the province of Averland. For the better part of two weeks he rode. He could have made better time if he had chosen to but he was in no hurry; so he rode at a leisurely pace. As he rode through the province the forests which, except for when he had been in the cities, had been a near constant his whole life gave way to rolling plains and hills. He saw men driving great herds of cattle and in the distance he saw mountains for the first time in his life.

On the eleventh day around noon as he was looking for a good spot to stop for lunch he heard a commotion up ahead of him. As a hill blocked his way he spurred the horse and rode to its top. From there he looked down on a scene of battle.

A group of wagons were pulled together to form a square and a number of short figures had taken refuge inside the square. With them were two men, one was obviously a knight but the other wore no armor, they were dismounted and fought inside the improvised fortifications as well. They were being assailed on all sides by a swarm of green-skinned Orcs.

As Karl watched the brutes swarmed at the wagons, from a nearby hill several dozen smaller creatures, which Karl recognized as goblins from old Brome's stories, fired a barrage of arrows at the defenders to cover their larger cousins advance. While most fell wide of their mark some fell among the defenders; most of these were deflected by armor or shields but Karl saw one or two figures fall. The defenders responded in kind and Karl saw crossbow bolts fired and heard the crack of black powder weapons. Their fire was more effective and a number of the on rushing Orcs fell.

Many remained, however, and these crashed into the defenders. The two sides dissolved into a whirling confused mass as the attackers tried to push in and the defenders tried to push them out. For a time the outcome seemed uncertain; then the attackers fell back in confusion. Though the assault had been repelled the cost had been high. A number of defenders lay on the ground, some moving about and crying out in pain but a number obviously dead.

Nor had the Orcs given up. They had fallen back but not very far. Already Karl could see their leader, or at least the biggest and meanest looking one, bellowing at the rest and forcing them back into something that vaguely resembled a formation. To Karl it seemed that if something were not done the attackers must eventually break through. When that happened the defenders would be doomed.

He considered his options; he knew that taking on the whole Orc war band by himself would be suicide. He stood a slightly better chance if he performed the change but that would likely result in the defenders attacking him as well. Looking at the situation he decided he had but one course of action.

He turned and rode back the way he had come; once he was at the bottom of the hill he rode in the direction of the archers, ensuring that he kept the hills between himself and them. When he heard the sounds of the Orcs working themselves up for another charge he rode his horse up the hill. As he had hoped he was staring right at the backs of the goblin archers; they were on a smaller hill a few hundred feet ahead of him with a small dip in between. As soon as the Orcs charged he spurred his horse into a gallop.

With all the noise generated by the battle, in addition to their own screeches, the goblins did not even hear him until he was almost on top of them. He barreled into them. Several were trampled under his horse's hooves and several more were knocked down.

For his own part Karl was wildly swinging his sword at anything that was within reach. Unfortunately his swordsmanship, not particularly good at the best of times, was even worse on horseback and most of his blows hit nothing but empty air. Fortunately, it did not matter, the goblins were skittish creatures and the courage was easily shaken. Karl's sudden appearance; along with his ferocity and the wild, high pitch screaming of his terrified horse, caused the goblins to panic and scattered.

With the archers dealt with; he turned and charged the Orcs. As before the enemy did not notice him until he was on them. As several turned to face him he stood high in his stirrups and turned to look over his shoulder. "WE GOT THEM RIGHT HERE BOYS! HERE THEY ARE! HERE THEY ARE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. This caused a number of the Orcs to turn and look in his direction.

Obviously they did not see anyone else but did see the goblins scattering and concluded that Karl was part of a larger force. A number panicked and began to shout in fear and break away from the fight and began to bolt away. Their panic spread to other attackers and some of them fled as well.

Karl ignored these and focused on those still fighting. He pushed into them, striking left and right, here they were so tightly packed together all his blows hit. With the number of assailants pressing them greatly reduced the defenders rallied and pushed them back.

Karl suddenly found himself up against the carts, without realizing it he had pushed clear through the attackers. Nearby he saw the Orc leader clashing with one of the defenders. Now that he was close enough he saw that the majority of the defenders were Dwarfs, the mountain folk and ancient allies of the Empire. He saw the Orc leader knock the Dwarf to the ground, the latter losing his grip on his axe. The Dwarf struggled with a pistol thrust into his belt but the weapon was caught and he could not draw it.

Grinning, the Orc raised its large cleaver. Desperate to intervene, Karl swung wildly at the Orc, by good fortune his blow landed on the brute's wrist, severing it completely. With a bellow of pain the Orc grabbed the bleeding stump with its remaining hand. Taking advantage of the opening, the Dwarf finally freed his pistol and shot the Orc in the head. Seeing their leader fall; the rest scattered and fled.

The defenders cheered and jeered at the fleeing Orcs but offered no pursuit. With the battle over Karl took a closer look at those he had helped rescue. Most of them were indeed Dwarfs, noticeably shorter than men but far broader and burlier. Though they were all armed he saw that few wore armor.

He also looked at the two men with them. One, the knight, was a young man; Karl put him at not much over twenty, with olive skin and black hair. His armor, though at the moment covered in blood, was of high quality. Curiously, it seemed to be made of brass. On his shield was the emblem of a sun with a face in the middle.

The other man was far older. His skin was paler and his hair, what little of it remained, was beginning to go white. He wore a long brown robe that almost made him look like a monk; on the front was a smaller piece of cloth stitched to the robe. On it an owl was embroidered.

"Well my good man," said the older man; "It seems we owe you a debt of gratitude for your timely intervention. If you hadn't intervened when you did those vile brutes would have had us. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Otto Werner, Verenean Investigator, on rout to Averheim. This good knight, here he indicated the other man, is Sir Leonard Mettellas of Tilean; a member of the Order of the Blazing Sun. I met him on the road and, since we're traveling in the same direction we agreed to travel together.

"Finally; this," he said indicating a Dwarf approaching them; "Is Thorick Ironbeard; merchant from Karak Angazhar and head of this caravan, who kindly allowed us to travel with them."

"For a 'slight' fee." Muttered Mettellas under his breath, if Ironbeard heard him he gave no notice, choosing instead to study Karl as Karl introduced himself.

Like all his kind Ironbeard was short and broad. While his clothing was unassuming, mostly grays and blacks, they were well cut and well-tailored. Like his name his beard, which fell down past his belt, was an iron gray color. "That was well done." He said in a deep gravelly voice; "But that little stunt you pulled could easily have gotten you killed."

Karl could only ruefully nod in agreement, "Indeed; now that I think about it, it does seem rather stupid, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. It seems Sigmar and Ulric favor the bold."

"Perhaps," said Sir Mettellas, with a bit of a smirk; "But Myrmidia favors the intelligent."

Before Karl could say anything, not that he really could say anything, Werner stepped in. "While we are grateful for your aid, I must confess I am rather curious what brings you here. By your accent I would say you are not from around here."

Karl nodded; glad to have changed the subject. "I am not from here. I have just come from Nuln. I was travelling to Averheim when I came upon you fight with the Orcs."

"Well; that was fortuitous," said Ironbeard. He paused and seemed to be considering something. "If you want, you can continue with us. It would be in your best interest to do so, those Orcs have scattered for now but they'll rally eventually and I doubt they'll fall for the same trick twice."

Karl thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement. "I thank you Master Dwarf for your generosity and I gladly accept,"

With seeing to the wounded and all the damage they travelled no further that. That night, as the all sat around the fires, Mettellas approached Karl. "I wanted to apologize if I gave offence, none was intended. You men of the Empire are a bit too touchy at times.'

Karl nodded his acceptance. "No offence taken Sir Knight."

The answer seemed to please Mettellas. "That's good; now, for the reason I came over. In the battle today you showed promise as a swordsman but you seem to lack training. If you would like, I would be more than willing to offer you some lessons to make up for my regrettable lack of manners."

Karl smiled and nodded his agreement, quite pleased with the offer. Earlier he had thought the man behaved just like Wilhelmina and was pleased to see had been wrong. Besides, he was himself aware that he lacked training with the blade and was pleased to have someone willing to teach him. _Especially, _he thought, _if I ever run into that Isabella creature again. _So thinking, he got up and followed Sir Mettellas towards an open area to begin.

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone, I hope you'll are doing well and liked this last chapter. For a little lore: Myrmidia-goddess of war and strategy is regarded in the Empire with some suspicion as she is from Tilea, which is basically Renaissance Italy. The Knights of the Blazing Sun are an order dedicated to her. Has some rivalry and animosity with Sigmar and Ulric who are also war gods. Her followers see their followers as ignorant muscle heads at times. Averland-southern-most province of the Empire. Verenean Investigator-an investigator dedicated to Verena the goddess of wisdom and justice. They prefer to gather evidence than to simply torture confessions from suspects**. **Well that's all for now**. **For this next adventure I am planning on it being more of a mystery as going from one fight to the next might get repetitive. Please let me know what you think and kep praying for Shawn and all who need it. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone, thanks for reading my story as always I don't own Warhammer, Games Workshop does.**

Traveling with the caravan, while safer, was far slower and it was more than a week before they reached Averheim. Karl, however, did not mind, he was in no hurry after all and found he rather enjoyed it. He had not traveled in the company of others in a non-life threating situation since he first went to Altdorf and this company was far more congenial than Wilhelmina had been.

Werner was always polite and could often be persuaded to talk about some of his past investigations. Karl was fascinated by them. Werner was a talented story teller and spun tales of searching for clues, shifting truth from lies and desperate pursuits.

Sir Mettellas was also a good travelling companion. True to his word he took Karl aside every night when they made camp and for an hour or two taught him swordsmanship. Karl was a quick study, though of course far from a master; which would take years of training. Regardless, Sir Mettellas praised his efforts and announced his confidence that Karl had a better than average chance of living long enough to gain experience, the finest teacher of all.

The Dwarfs were a strange lot. They rose before dawn and seemed capable of going all day without tiring. At night they kept to themselves and spoke to one another in their deep guttural tongue. Occasionally though; usually after they had partaken of a large quantity of ale, of which they never seemed to run short, they would burst into song which seemed to make the ground shake. Or one could be persuaded to tell a tale. Karl enjoyed these as they were always tales of great battles or brave adventurers of the Dwarfs.

Though they maintained a constant vigilance they saw no further sign of the Orcs. Neither were they attacked by bandits. Karl supposed a caravan of armed Dwarfs was more than most brigands were willing to trifle with. Thus, they were able to reach Averheim without further incident.

At a distance the city seemed the same as any other that Karl had visited. Built on a bluff between two rivers it sported the high walls and towers that Karl had come to associate with cities. At the highest point of the city there stood a tall, strongly build castle.

As they drew closer Karl noticed something that was different, the smell of cattle. While the smell of cattle was present in every city, here it was near overwhelming to Karl's sensitive nose. As they drew nearer Karl saw why. Great herds of cattle were being driven into the city, here and there he saw fights break out between drovers from different herds. Inside the city were even more herds of cattle.

Everywhere Karl looked he saw men inspecting the cattle while drovers and their employers shouted out praises of their herds or hurled derision on the herds of others. Here, as it had outside the city, this resulted in a number of brawls.

While these drew a number of spectators, more than one of whom placed bets on the outcome while cheering the fighters on; Karl saw surprisingly few members of the City Watch. Even when they did appear they seemed far less forceful than their counter-parts in other cities. Feeling himself watched he looked about and saw more than one speculative eye appraising the wagons of the caravan, though no one accosted them.

Nudging his horse alongside Werner he mentioned this. The man nodded and his face was grim. "Indeed, I knew things had gotten bad but I had not realized how bad."

"What has caused this?" Karl asked him.

"Ever since the Elector Count Marius Leitdorf was killed fighting Orcs several years ago no one has taken his place. Oh, there are claimants aplenty, members of his family and others besides. As none have so far been able to secure the position it remains vacant. Since this has left the minor nobles and merchants free to run their own affairs many are quite willing to see this state of affairs continue."

The caravan continued on. Eventually they passed beyond the cattle market and into a quieter, more orderly section of the city. Here, in addition to numerous warehouses, Karl saw a number of Dwarfs about. The caravan came to a halt in front of a group of them. As the Dwarfs began to unload the wagons Thorick Ironbeard turned to address Werner.

"Well, this is where we part ways manling. May your goddess be with you, I think you'll need it here, things being as they are."

As Werner was making his reply another Dwarf came up to Karl and indicated that he wished to speak to him. As Karl dismounted he saw it was the Dwarf whose life he had saved when he first joined them.

"I wanted to thank you manling before we part ways." He said in a deep gruff voice.

"I accept, though there is no need." Karl said.

"Aye, there is. I wanted to give you this token of my gratitude." He brought forth a pistol. It was like none Karl had ever seen. Instead of the have one barrel this one had three arranged in a triangular shape attached to some sort of mechanism which rotated the barrels whenever the hammer was cocked. He also gave Karl a steel powder horn and a leather bag of shot.

Karl took the weapon. "This is a fine gift indeed and I gladly accept."

"Indeed, it is good to have a proper weapon with you in addition to that lump you carry." The Dwarf said. "I am Snorri Ironbeard, sister-son of Thorick Ironbeard of Karak Angazhar and I and my clan are in your debt. You are welcome to the hospitality of my clan if ever you should visit Karak Angazhar." So saying, he bowed and went to join his fellows.

As Karl stood admiring his new weapon and resolving to learn how to use it Sir Mettellas came up to him. "My, that is a fine weapon. As a knight I am not supposed to hold with such weapons but I did my share of dueling and I can appreciate a fine piece.

"Well, I came to say farewell, for I must be on my way. My order has a chapter house here and I am expected. Fare thee well and may Myrmidia keep you smart."

"And may Sigmar and Ulric keep you strong." Karl responded.

As Mettellas rode away Werner came up to Karl. "Have you plans for your time here in the city?" He asked.

"No. I don't know anyone here neither do I have any plans." Karl responded.

"Well, that being the case, perhaps you would be willing to assist me in my investigations. I have come here at the request of a friend of mine, a former pupil, Ernst Von Rohm, who is now Lord High Justice of Averheim. In the letter he sent me he said that he believed a number of recent events were somehow connected and he feared that they were meant to harm this city in some manner. Due to the current political situation his powers and resources are somewhat limited and he asked for my help. Seeing how bad things have become here I would appreciate a strong assistant to aid me in my enquirers what do you say?"

Karl thought about it for a moment. He had planned on enjoying himself and not getting involved in anything like this. On the other hand, Werner' stories had been very interesting and it might be fun to be a part of one. He looked at Werner and nodded in agreement.

"Exhalent," Werner said; "Let's be off then."

They rode towards the upper class part of the city. They stopped in front of a large official looking building and several grooms took their horses. At the entrance several members of the City Watch moved to halt them but Werner produced a letter from the Lord High Justice. Karl wasn't sure if they could read the letter, he knew he couldn't, but they recognized the seal on it and let them through.

Werner seemed to know where they were going and navigated without help the maze of halls, stairs and passages. Arriving at a large door Werner gave it several sturdy knocks. "Enter." Came a deep voice from within.

Entering the room Karl saw a large dark room dominated by a great desk, as big as a table, piled high with papers at the back of the room. The wall behind it was dominated by a large painting of a man clad in archaic armor. Sitting behind the desk was the rooms' sole occupant. He was a middle-aged man, powerfully built but beginning to run to fat. His hair was gray and thinning but his eyes were a piercing green. On a chain he wore a badge of office and his cloths were of the finest quality.

A smile creased the man's face when he saw Werner. "Ah, Brother Werner, it is very good to see you."

"And to see you as well," replied Werner, also smiling; "Allow me to introduce Karl Richter, a fine young man whom I have taken on as an assistant to aid me in helping you."

"My lord." Said Karl, giving the man a bow.

The man nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to Werner and the smile left his face. "Ah yes my problem. I must say I am glad you have come, because quite frankly I am quite lost in the mess. There have been several murders, not terribly surprising really. Ever since the Elector Count died the great families have been feuding for his position. In the meantime funding for the Watch has dwindled and our capabilities have dwindled with them.

"Now these recent murders have all been members of prominent families, families who either claim the title of Elector Count, or support one of the families that do. While there has been violence before, I suspect the great families have influence with the large gangs that are now roaming the city, the families have rarely attacked one another. If they are involved this means the game they have been playing is changing."

"You seem to have some reservations." Werner noted.

"I do." Rohm agreed. "This change doesn't seem right. These murders have harmed all the claimants to one degree or another. It almost seems that whoever is doing it wants this feuding to continue or even increase."

"Who would desire such a state of affairs?"

"Who would not?" Rohm cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Without a Count no new taxes or laws may pass and you may be sure the guilds and nobles are profiting from it. That is another problem to this case. Half the province benefits from these deaths! And yet…" He trailed off looking confused."

"And yet?" Werner inquired after several seconds of silence.

"And yet, in a way this hurts them as well. If the violence increases it could lead to a civil war here which would not benefit them, if for no other reason than that the victor would be the new Count."

"So you suspect an outsider?"

"It seems logical but I cannot say who. I know you are far cleverer than I am in such matters so I wrote to you asking for help."

"You flatter me," Werner said smiling; "But you are right, this is a very serious and confusing matter. I shall begin my investigation at once."

"Thank you." Rohm sighed in relief.

"Now to begin with, I shall need a list of who has been murdered along with all of the relevant details."

Rohm nodded and produced a number of files. "Here they are. There have been five murders to date. Elise Leitdorf, she supported her uncle Albert Leitdorf. Hans Leitdorf, he was Elise's second cousin and he was in favor of his aunt Margaret Leitdorf. Next we have Johan Alptraum. They were the old Elector Counts till the Leitdorfs stole it from them in a coup. After that we have Maxwell Stoker, son of the guild of meat curers, very powerful in this city, they favor the Leitdorf cause. Finally we have Katharine Von Galt, daughter of Gerhard Von Galt very old family, lost a good deal of their money the past few generations but still carry a great deal of influence, was rumored to have ambitions for the title themselves.

"All were murdered in their own homes. All were either poisoned or stabbed multiple times. Witnesses' accounts vary from one to a half dozen attackers. None of my informants have found any underworld connection and all the families are denying responsibility, while at the same time accusing their rivals and threatening revenge."

"Thank you," Werner said rising and bowing, Karl did the same while gathering up the files; "I shall begin at once and I shall not rest till the killers are brought to justice."

**Author's Notes: Well what did you think, as I wrote before this arc will be a mystery. I have never done this before so let me know if you see problems. Please keep praying for Shawn and all who need it especially the persecuted Christian Church in Asia and Africa. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Notes: Hello everyone, glad you liked the last chapter. As always Games Workshop owns everything except what I make up.**

After leaving the Lord High Justice's office they went to a nearby tavern. As they ate a simple lunch Karl asked what Werner planned to do first. The older man thought about this for a moment, chewing his food reflectively, and then he began to speak.

"We shall begin our investigation with the last victim, Katharine Von Galt. Since she died only yesterday she should still be in the temple of Morr. There we shall examine the remains and hopefully gain some insight into the killers and their methods. Afterwards, we shall go and interview her father."

As Werner knew the way to the temple they made their way there quickly. Once there he spoke to the novice at the gate and asked to speak with the abbot. Karl felt slightly uneasy entering the temple. He did not sense anything wrong he just found himself uneasy in a temple dedicated to the death god.

Presently the abbot, a tall, pale and skeletally thin man named Albert Kessler, presented himself. Werner introduced himself and Karl and then explained their purpose in coming to the temple, Werner presenting the abbot with the paper the High Justice had given them. Karl could not read it, of course, but Werner had told him it said that they had authority to conduct the investigation.

Kessler read the paper for a moment and then returned it to Werner. "You are known to us Brother Werner," Kessler said in a hushed whisper the seemed appropriate for the solemn atmosphere of the temple; "Will you please follow me."

So saying, he turned and led them down a long hallway. Though there were no stairs Karl got the feeling that they were descending into the ground. Though candles burned in niches they did little to lift the feeling of gloom.

At last they came to a room that contained several stone tables. On one of these lay a body of a young woman dressed for burial in a dress of the finest quality. As they approached Kessler seemed to anticipate Werner's requirements, at a signal from the abbot several novices appeared along with a young priest.

At the abbot's command the novices began to undress the body while the abbot introduced the young priest as Father Sebastian, the priest who had supervised the preparation of the body for burial. Once the clothing had been removed they all gathered round to examine the remains. Undressed the body was that of a young woman of about twenty.

She had had a rather plain face and a rather stout build and mousy brown hair. What attracted everyone's attention were the numerous stab wounds that covered her body. Washed clear of blood and sown closed the wounds were now a series of ugly scars.

Karl looked at the wounds as well but in truth he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for, a wound was a wound to him. As Werner studied the wounds too Father Sebastian described what he had seen as he cleaned the body. "I counted a total of seventeen wounds. Due to the nature of the wounds, such as the variations in angle and depth I concluded that this poor soul was attacked by at least five attackers.

"As she was found in her bed I imagine they stood around the bed and all thrust down repeatedly. Due to the tearing around the wounds I would guess that they all used knives with curved and serrated blades. Judging from the angles of the wounds at least one of the attackers was left-handed. I believe that there was a great deal of difference in strength among the attackers due to the fact that some of the wounds were quite deep while others were far sallower."

At last Werner straightened himself and thanked them for their aid in his investigation. On their way out they stopped at the chapel to offer prayers for the soul of the departed. It was with some relief to Karl when they exited out into the afternoon sun.

Werner announced that now they would go to the Von Galt mansion and speak with the girl's father, Gerhard Von Galt. As they rode toward the mansion Werner asked Karl what he had learned from the examination of the body. Karl, rather abashedly, had to admit that he did not really know what he was supposed to be looking for.

"That is quite alright," Werner said with a patient smile; "I forget that you are not one of my novices. Well, the examination revealed several things. One, this confirms that we are looking for a number of killers, we already suspected as much but we needed confirmation. Second, we are not looking for professionals; as you yourself saw they inflicted near twenty wounds. A professional, even in the dark, would be able to inflict a killing blow with a single strike; and such persons rarely work in groups."

Karl hesitated for a moment then said; "Could the wounds not be part of some ritual?" As he said it he remembered stories he had heard of forbidden cults conducting human sacrifices by the light of the moons.

Werner shook his head. "No, I think not, though I commend you for thinking about it. I have had the misfortune to have examined the remains of such victims in the past. In such cases the wound are clean and usually in a pattern if there is more than one, which is not present here. Also, organs, usually the heart, were usually removed. That is not the case here; here the wounds are sloppy and random and none of the organs had been removed. No, whatever else these people are, they are not professionals and this does not have the look of a cult killing."

They rode in silence till they came to the Von Galt mansion. It turned out to be one of the largest houses Karl had ever seen. It was four stories tall and surrounded by gardens almost as large as a park. As they drew closer, however, they began to see signs of decay. In patches the paint on the house was peeling, the garden looked only half kept, with hedges only half trimmed and the decorative pond cover with a layer of scum.

Coming up to the door Werner knocked on the door while Karl held the horses, no groom having appeared to take them. After a long wait the door was opened by an elderly butler in a faded suit of clothes. Werner again introduced himself and announced his purpose and requested to see Gerhard Von Galt.

The butler nodded and indicated the way while at the same time calling out for someone named Hector. At last a boy of about fifteen appeared, the butler told him to take the horses and then fetch something from the guests from the kitchen.

The butler led them down a long corridor. On both sides were great paintings of men in armor or dressed for the hunt. They all had features similar to the murder girl, but were they had made her look plain and lumpy in the paintings the men were pictured as strong and forceful looking. Still, the pictures were dirty and neglected, as was the rest of the house. In truth the whole place seemed more like a tomb to a past age than a place people lived in, with the pictures and other trophies of the past masters of the house were all dirty and decaying as far as Karl could see.

At last they were shown through a door into large room that appeared to be a library, it being full of old dusty books. At the back of the room was a great fireplace in which a small amount of wood burned. Over it was another picture of a short but powerfully built man in hunting dress. At a desk in front of the fireplace sat the man himself.

The years had not been kind to Gerhard Von Galt, his muscles had for the most part turned to flab and he had developed a pot belly. His hair fell to his shoulder and had grayed and thinned and his eyes appeared piggish. He was dressed in a faded suit of clothes that looked to be as old as everything else in the house.

He scowled at them as they bowed and Werner made their introductions and presented the paper. Von Galt took it and squinted at it as he silently mouthed the words as he read them. Finally, he thrust the paper back at Werner with a disgusted grunt.

"Ha, my daughter gets herself killed and what does the 'Lord High Justice' do? He sends for a bleeding monk and a peasant oaf! High Justice, ha! He's those mad Leitdorf's little stooge and nothing more!" He snarled out in a raspy voice.

Werner refused to lose his temper. "The Lord High Justice is a servant of the city and province and he has requested I lend my aid to bringing her killers to justice. Now, if I may, I have a few questions to ask."

Von Galt grunted. "I don't need an investigation to know who killed my daughter. It was either those lunatic Leitdorfs or those blasted Alptraums!"

"You believe her murder to be connected to the contest for the position of Elector Count then?"

"Of course it was you fool! Why else? Gods above man, you're even more of a fool than that idiot Rohm! Get out! I have more important things to do than listen to your blathering!" So saying her turned back to writing and steadfastly ignored them.

Obviously deciding that they would get no more from the man Werner and Karl rose and left the room. As the old butler led them back the way they had come the man seemed to be considering something. At last, just as they reached the front door, he seemed to come to a decision.

"Sir, I was wondering if I might have a word."

"Of course my good man," Werner said, smiling encouragingly; "What is on your mind?"

"First sir, I wanted to apologize for the master's conduct. The years have not been kind to him and it has soured his disposition. The second thing regards the young mistress. Of late she had taken to going out on walks by herself. Last week as I was looking for Hector, I saw her getting into a carriage down the street. I did not see who was inside, it was too far away, but I did see the coat of arms as whoever was inside opened the door for her. It was the Stokers' crest."

**Author's Notes: Well another chapter down. What did you all think? This is my first mystery so let me know if I am doing alright. In case you did not know this world has two moons and the Leitdorf family is in charge of administering the capital of the province. Till next time please keep praying for Shawn and persecuted Christians everywhere and all who need it. Especially the American pastor Saeed Abedini who was sentenced in Iran to eight years in prison. See you all later and may Jesus bless you all.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Notes: Hi everyone, glad you like my story; well here we go, as always I don't own anything but the characters I create. **

After leaving the Von Galt mansion, as evening was coming on, they went to an inn where Werner procured rooms for them. They then order supper with instructions that it be sent to Werner's room. They then went there themselves.

As they waited for their meal Werner turned to Karl. "Well, what do you think of what we saw today?"

Karl thought for a moment. "Well," he began; "I can't say I cared much for the girl's father. As for the murder itself; while it seems likely that her killing, as well as the killings of all the others, must be linked to the families' campaign for the Elector position; still, something in what we saw today struck me as wrong."

"Yes, it struck me so as well." Werner said. "While I can certainly see the families killing one another for the title I cannot see them doing so like this, employing a pack of thugs. Well, perhaps Von Galt, they would be all he could afford, though even that might be stretching his resources a bit. But the others; the Leitdorfs, the Alptraums and the Stokers, all of them have more than enough money to hire professionals without having to resort to the use of street toughs."

"Perhaps one of them used thugs to hide their involvement." Suggested Karl, thinking of his own dealings with Marx.

Werner shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense here either. Things being what they are the rival families will be suspected wither or not the killing is done by a professional and street killers might bungle the job. Also, the law will be much more vigorous in hunting down the killers of a member of the aristocracy. A pack of thugs would stand far less chance of avoiding capture and would have no reason not to tell the authorities who hired them."

"Well, maybe they were professionals and made their work sloppy deliberately to hide the fact. After all, they were good enough to get in without being detected."

Werner made a doubtful sound. "It is possible but unlikely. As strange as it may seem to law abiding citizens' assassins take pride in their work and hate to appear sloppy or amateurish."

As Karl could think of nothing else to say about that he tried a new line of inquiry. He asked Werner what he thought about the coach with the Stoker coat of arms.

"The answer to that could be very interesting, if the thing is true of course." At Karl's questioning look Werner explained. "Von Galt has to suspect that one of his rivals is responsible for his daughter's murder. By having his servant, and remember we only have the word of his servant, a man loyal to Von Galt, tell investigators about these alleged meetings he could simply be trying to cast suspicion on a rival's supporters."

Karl's head was starting to hurt. It seemed they could not be certain of anything! He almost missed fighting Orcs and Beastmen, which now seemed far easier than trying to muddle through a murder investigation.

Perhaps sensing his mood Werner smiled ruefully. "Yes, it can be discouraging, but fear not, things will get clearer. We are just at the beginning and there are still too many unknowns. Tomorrow will shall call upon the Stokers and see if while investigating the death of Maxwell we cannot determine the truth of these meetings."

Just then their meal arrived. Karl immediately set to eating his while Werner only nibbled at his, devoting the majority of his attention to reading the file about the death of Maxwell Stoker. As Karl could not read Werner read it aloud to him.

Maxwell Stoker had died eight days ago. He had returned home from the theater and had promptly retired to his rooms. About two hours afterwards the household had been awakened by his crying out. Several servants and his older brother, Franz Stoker, had rushed to his room. The door had been locked and they had been forced to break the door down. Inside they had found Maxwell on the ground suffering from violent convulsions.

Franz had sent two men out, one to fetch a doctor and another to fetch a priestess of Shallya. In the end it had been in vain, Maxwell had died before either had arrived. At first it had been thought that he had taken ill with some sudden sickness. When the body was sent to the temple Morr, however, the priest charged with preparing the body had examined it more closely and had declared that Maxwell's body showed signs of being poisoned by belladonna.

The next morning they went to the Stoker home. While not as big as the Von Galt estate, it was much better maintained and lacked the air of decay and gloom. They were ushered into a well-lit library and introduced to Wilhelm Stoker, head of the family and Guild Master of the city's meat curers.

He was a middle-aged man, though still healthy and vigorous. He was tall and trim, with thinning red hair and shrewd green eyes. The cloths he wore were well cut and well-made and all black to signify he was in mourning.

With him was a young man who looked so like a younger version of Wilhelm he could only be his remaining son, Franz Stoker. He was slightly shorter than his father and dressed similar fashion. What stood out most about him was the fact that his left hand was gone, the sleeve of that shirt was folded up to cover up the stump.

"Welcome gentlemen." Wilhelm said in a gruff but not unfriendly voice. "I have heard of your errand here in the city and I will be glad to help you in any way I can."

"I thank you sir," Werner said with a bow; "And please allow me to express my condolences, both for your lose and for our having to intrude on your time of grief. Alas I fear there are questions that must be asked."

"Please allow me to spare you some time." Franz said, speaking for the first time. "Because we already know who killed my brother." At Werner's raised eyebrow Franz continued. "I was up when my brother returned home, as he was tired he went straight to his rooms and asked me to have a nightcap sent to his room. I went down to the kitchens and had Max, one of the kitchen boys, take up a drink. After we found my brother I wanted to question the boy, but he was nowhere to be found. I am convinced he poisoned my brother on the orders of the Alptraums." The name was spat out angrily by Franz.

"So you believe that Maxwell's murder was politically motivated?" Werner asked.

"Of course it was!" Wilhelm snapped. "Why else would someone want to hurt my son? Those damned Alptraums!"

"You are convinced it was the Alptraums, not Von Galt?"

Both of the Stokers snorted. "Von Galt," Franz said; "Is a bitter old man living in a wreck of a house telling himself his family still counts for something. No it had to be the Alptraums."

"If I may," Karl interjected; "You are known to support the Leitdorfs. As several of them are trying to become the next Elector might not one of the ones opposed to the one you support be responsible?"

The Stokers looked at him as if he were some uppity servant. As Werner indicated he also wished to hear the answer they did so. "No." Wilhelm replied. "Not possible. We do not support one particular member; rather we support the family as a whole. In fact; before their murders we were attempting to broker a marriage between Hans and Elise, which would have ended the feud between those two branches of the family."

"Well." Werner said; "It seems we must speak with this Max boy. Did he live here? I know you said you have not seen him since the tragedy but an examination of his living quarters might reveal where he has gone."

Franz shook his head. "No, he didn't live here in the house. He lived with his mother near the cattle market. But I doubt you'll find anything there the Watch has already been there. I am sorry that we could not be of more help."

Taking the hint Werner and Karl rose to leave as they did so Werner said, with an air of casualness; "By the way, I heard a rumor that you have been in communication with the Von Galts, I was wondering if you could confirm that."

The two men exchanged a quick look. "Of course we haven't." Wilhelm said hastily. "Why should we have anything do with them?"

"Well, that takes care of that." Werner said with a chuckle. "Serves me right for listening to gossip; again our condolences on your lose."

As they were heading toward the door they were intercepted. A door burst open and a girl of about seventeen came out. Though it was getting on ten o'clock in the morning the girl was wearing only a nightgown. She had strangely vacant green eyes and long hair the same shade as the two men they had just spoken to.

As she entered the room she came up to them, half walking half dancing. As she twirled in a circle around them she chanted in a sing-song voice. "They come, they come. Hurry, hurry, hurry. They come, they come. Scurry, scurry, scurry."

As Karl looked at Werner, hoping to get some indication as to how to with this strange girl, a second girl hurried in. This one was taller and looked to be about the same age. She had dusty skin and curly black hair and eyes of the same color. She was wearing the clothing of a lady's maid.

"Lady Selena!" She said breathlessly in a strange accent. "What are you doing? You know your father doesn't like it when you leave your room when he has guests."

"But I was bored Esmeralda." Selena said, sounding like a pouting child. Turning back to look at the two men she stared at each of them in turn. "You're old." She said to Werner. Looking at Karl she said; "You look nice, will play with me?"

"Lady Selena!" Esmeralda said in an annoyed voice, though Karl thought she seemed a bit amused as well. Turning to face them Esmeralda bowed to the two men. "I apologize gentlemen; the Lady Selena is not well. Please accept my humblest apologize." Turning back to Selena she said, kindly but firmly. "Let's go back to your rooms. I'll help you dress and then I'll bring you some tea. You like tea don't you?"

That seemed to please Selena as she immediately seemed to forget about Karl and Werner. Turning with a delighted cry she ran off. As she did she began to chant again. "They come, they come. Hurry, hurry, hurry. They come, they come. Scurry, scurry, scurry." The two men left the house.

**Author's Notes: Well thee you are I hope you liked it. How do you like my little mystery so far? As I said this is my first so if you think it needs work please let me know. Please keep praying for Shawn, persecuted Christians, Saeed Abedini and all others who need it, till next time may Jesus bless you all. **


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Notes: Hello, everyone. Glad you all like the story so far, well onward.**

Werner and Karl decided to have an early lunch and entered a nearby tavern. Taking a table in the back they ordered food and began to discuss what they had learned that morning. Werner asked Karl what he made of the morning's interviews.

Karl sat in silence for a moment and then he began to speak. "They were lying when they said they had not been in contact with Von Galt weren't they?"

"In deed they were," Werner affirmed; "Though I cannot see why they would be so secretive about it."

"Maybe they are changing camps and throwing their support behind Von Galt?" Karl speculated.

"No, I think not." Werner said shaking his head. "While I think their disparaging of him seemed a little excessive; they clearly do not believe he has a hope of becoming the Elector, and they are right. He doesn't stand a chance; and if they were to switch to his camp that would make them enemies of the Leitdorfs, and as that family controls a good deal of the city, they could quite possibly have the Stokers replaced in their guild. No, they would not take such a risk with so little chance of success."

"What about the boy, Max, that Franz told us about, do you think he poisoned Maxwell?"

"It certainly looks suspicious, but I must have more evidence of his guilt, though I will admit that if he is innocent his flight does him no favors. Still, as I just said, we must have more evidence. So after we have eaten we will go to his home and question his mother and search his home. Perhaps we shall find something that the Watch overlooked."

As they clearly were not going to get anywhere with the investigation until they had more information Karl switched topics. "That is a rather odd girl of Stoker, what do you think she meant by that rhyme of hers?"

Werner looked slightly sad. "Yes it is rather unfortunate, but many people from here are said to be," here he paused, seeking the right word; "Touched. She is fortunate to be born to a wealthy family. If they had been poor she would have been abandoned and if they had been rural peasants she might very well have been burned."

Karl shuddered, remembering the cold eyes of the witch hunter who had sought to burn him.

"As for her rhyme, doubtless it is just some nonsense she made up; still, I will admit it was unsettling."

After they had eaten they made their way to the home of Max and his mother. It took them a while, there were a lot of houses near the cattle market, but at last, after asking several people for directions, they found it. It was a small affair, part of a cluster of houses clearly owned by people of the working class.

The woman who opened the door was about forty. She might have been pretty once but a life of hard work had worn at her and she had clearly taken to drink some time ago. She must have guessed what they were there for because her face immediately became hostile and she tried to close the door. Werner, however, without seeming to do so, placed himself so that he blocked the door from closing.

"What you want?" She snapped at them, her voice was slightly slurred and Karl could smell cheap liquor on her breath.

"Good day madam." Werner said in a polite voice, completely ignoring the hostility in hers. "I am Brother Werner and this is my assistant Karl. We have been charged with investigating the recent deaths that have been occurring and I was hoping you might be able to assist us."

If he was hoping to sooth the woman's temper he was to be disappointed. "Oh, of course you are! We die all the time but it's only when the rich die that the gods seem to care" She snorted; she was obviously, if not entirely drunk, then at least slightly tipsy. With another snort she turned and headed back into the house. Werner apparently decided this was an invitation to come in and Karl followed his lead.

The inside was small and dirty. There was a small fireplace and a table and a couple of chairs. On the table were a number of dirty dishes. Everything was covered with a layer of dust.

"I don't know nothing!" She spat. "I don't know if he killed that bugger or not, though if he did the little twit deserved it!"

"Oh?" Werner inquired, his tone inviting her to continue.

"Yeah, he did! Stokers, ha! Little more than glorified butchers they are. Though you wouldn't know it to see them going around putting on airs, just as if they were nobs themselves! I worked for them you know? Kept that idiot girl of theirs I did and then they gave me the sack, said I drank too much!"

Personally Karl thought they were right but kept that to himself as Werner began to speak again.

"I know your son is not here. I really must speak to him, however. Might you have any idea where he might have gone?"

"Like I would know! You check his whore?"

"His what?" Werner asked in a surprised voice.

"You hear me! Some painted tart down at Palace of Pleasure." The last words were delivered with a snort and roll of the eyes. "Silly for her he is. I told him and told him; he's throwing away good money on her he is! As if we got money to throw away! But does he listen to the woman who brought him into the world and fed and clothed his ungrateful hide, not him!"

"I see." Werner said. "I don't suppose you would happen to have her name would you?"

"Don't know, don't care!"

"I see, well, I was hoping we might search his room to see if we might uncover some clue as to his whereabouts."

"As if I could stop you! But you're wasting your time. The bully-boys of the Watch already looked!"

"Never the less." Werner said, heading to the door she had indicated. Inside was a small room furnished only by a bed and small chest. The bed had been over turned and the chest opened and its contents scattered about the room. It did not take them long to search the small room. They found nothing and soon left.

By unspoken consent they made their way to the Palace of Pleasure. Unlike Max's home it took little effort to find. It was located in an ally in the part of the city were the lower and middle class parts came together. Karl pounded on the door several times before it was opened by a large, fat bald man.

The man wore a suit of fine cloths that was far too small for him and was stained and dirty. He appeared to have just awoken from sleep. Never the less, he managed to muster up an oily and insincere smile. "Greetings, good sirs, allow me to introduce myself. I am Henry, known by some as Henry the Heavy!" Here he gave a chuckle of false good humor. "I fear you are early gentlemen, it is barely three in the afternoon, and all the girls are still asleep."

"We did not come for your girls services." Werner said, taking his paper out to show to the man. Karl didn't know if the man could read but he clearly recognized the seal and went pale at the sight of it. "We have learned that Max, a boy working for the Stokers and suspected of being involved in Maxwell Stoker's murder, was a regular of one of your girls. Now I don't for a moment suspect you of involvement, of course, but I must speak to that girl."

At Werner's words the man relaxed visibly. "That would be Olga; I heard her talking about the boy with some of the other girls. Crazy about him she is, you would think a girl in her profession would have more sense, but there you are.

"If you will come this way pleas gentlemen," He said indicating a side room; "I'll wake her and send her down to answer your questions."

They sat in silence for several minutes before the girl joined them. She looked to be about twenty or so. She had thick blond hair hastily pulled back and tied with a ribbon and eyes made hard by her profession. What Karl noticed most about her though was her size. She was almost as tall as he was and, while still decidedly feminine, nearly as muscular.

"Boss said you wanted to speak to me." She said in a wary voice.

"Don't worry my dear." Werner began, smiling like a grandfather speaking to his favorite grandchild. "You aren't suspected of any wrong doing we just need to ask you a few questions about Max."

At the mention of Max her hard eyes softened somewhat. "I like Max, stupid as he is."

"How did you meet?"

"How do you think? He first came here about a month ago. Boss nearly turned him away, but he had money. Once the boss saw that he became as greasy and accommodating as you please. It was busy that night and I was the only one available.

"He was nice. Polite as you please and didn't hit like a lot of them do. He came again a few days later and asked for me specifically." Here she stopped for a minute and took a deep breath and seemed for a moment she might cry. "No one ever did that before, except the ones who like to hit. Boss usually sends those ones to me; because I am so big and strong I can take a lot of hitting.

"But Max never hit me. He was always nice and said I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Men get like that sometimes; you know they don't mean it. But he sounded like he did. He even brought me little presents some times."

"So he had money," Werner mused, mostly it seemed to himself; "Did he ever say where he got it?"

"No, I didn't want to know."

"Earlier you said he was stupid, why did you say that?"

"Oh, it was just the way he was sometimes. He would get real excited and say he was going places. That he wouldn't be working in the kitchens forever; that he was going to be somebody. He said when that happened he'd marry me and I'd be a proper lady. Like I said, he was stupid." Though she tried to laugh it sounded false.

She had nothing else to add and they soon departed. As they walked toward their inn something began bothering Karl, the hairs on the back of his neck started tingling. They were being watched, he was sure of it. Inside him the wolf growled, it didn't like this. The hunter should not be hunted.

"So you noticed it too?" Werner said softly. Karl nodded, so Werner has sensed it as well.

"Keep walking," Werner said softly; "Don't look back, we'll never spot them in this crowd." They were now in a crowded market area. Werner nodded towards an alley. "We'll head down that alley, go a little ways and then double back. Hopefully we'll get a look at them."

Karl nodded and as they passed the alley they suddenly darted into it. They hurried down it, turning into new alleyways several times; at last Werner seemed satisfied because he held up his hand to stop Karl just as they rounded a corner. They pressed themselves against the wall and listened. After a minute or two they stepped away from the wall and looked back around the corner. There was no one there.

"Did we lose them?" Karl asked. Werner stood in silence for a moment stroking his chin.

"I don't think so. I think it more likely our unknown friend knows we are on to him and is giving us some space to avoid detection." He paused again. "I think we had better change inns. It may be that he doesn't know where we are staying; but if he does, then we should move before he returns."

Karl agreed and they soon procured rooms at a new inn. While Werner remained there Karl went to get their belongings and horses from the inn they had been staying at. As he approached it he felt the tingling again, their stalker was back.

Determined to catch him this time Karl slowed his pace to give himself time to think. Deciding to just chance it he spun around to see if he could spot his pursuer. It proved to be a wasted effort as the street was still crowded, even though the afternoon was getting on.

Not ready to give up Karl resumed walking. After about ten minutes he suddenly darted down another alley. Unlike last time he did not go far. Instead he took a side street and used it to double back. He was just in time to see someone going into the same alley he had entered. Not wanting to give the man too much of a head start Karl hurried after him. As he came to entrance he knocked into a woman causing her to drop her basket.

Her subsequent burst of cursing drew the attention of Karl's target. For just a moment they stared at each other. It was too dark for Karl, standing in the still bright street, to see much; but he got the impression of a tall man with a slender build. While Karl's eyes were hampered by the changing light his nose was not.

He inhaled deeply, trying to get the man's smell. The man smelled of sweat, horses, tobacco as well as a lot of earthy smells. The man was clearly not from the city. Then the moment ended as the man came to himself and bolted. Determined not to lose him Karl gave chase.

The man was fast, but even in his human form Karl was faster than any human and quickly gained on him. Seeing this, the man changed tactics and rushed from the back alleys and back into the crowd. Karl lost sight of him several times but quickly regained it.

The man, seeing Karl gaining again, knocked over a vegetable cart, blocking Karl's path. Karl could have easily leapt over it but a human could not and Karl did not want that attention. By the time he had pushed his way around it the man's lead had increased. Then the man did something unexpected.

He ran towards a two story tavern. As he reached it he jumped up and grabbed the sign. Pulling himself up he balanced on the pole and then jumped and grabbed the edge of the roof. He gracefully pulled himself up and the climbed up to the peak of the roof and disappeared over the other side.

Karl hurried to the back of the tavern but the man was gone. He sniffed the air but the wind was blowing the wrong way and carried the man's scent away and mingled it with all the other smells of the city. Cursing, Karl headed back to retrieve his and Werner's belongings.

**Author's Notes: Hey everyone, hoped you liked the chapter. A note on the province they're in; many in the rest of the Empire think people from there are touched in the head. But as you can see there is a second chapter so read on. Please keep praying for Shawn, persecuted Christians, Saeed Abedini and everyone else who needs it, including Amir Hekmati, an American in poor health being held in Iran. Keep reading and may Jesus bless you.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Notes: Hey everyone, glad you like the story so far, as always I own nothing Games Workshop does.**

After gathering their possessions Karl returned to the new inn they were staying at. He saw no further sign of his pursuer and arrived without incident. Upon his arrival he told Werner about the encounter, only leaving out the part about his smelling the man.

"Well," Werner said at the conclusion of his story; "It is certainly an interesting shadow we have tailing us, I should very much like to speak with this acrobatic individual."

"I am sorry I lost him." Karl said apologetically.

"Not your fault. This man is gone for now but I am certain that we shall meet again. Till then; we can spend our time more profitably going over what we learned today."

"Well," Karl said; "We know that Max was into something and was being paid well for it. Do you think it was the murder of Maxwell?"

"I doubt it." Werner said. "While he was clearly being paid to do something, assassination seems unlikely. Whoever hired him clearly has money and if they have money; then they could have hired a professional and not have to trust a kitchen boy, who might very well bungle it and knowing he would give up whoever hired him as soon as he was caught."

"Who do you think hired him?"

"Let us consider what he told Olga. That he was going places. That he was going to be a somebody. That he was going to marry her and make her a lady. Now assuming he was telling the truth, and right now we have no evidence that he wasn't, then we begin to get a picture of his mysterious patron. They have to have both money and the ability to elevate a person's social status.

"It would help if we knew what he was being paid to do." Karl said. "If was not assassination, then what?"

"I am not certain as to the what. If the theory that all these killings are politically motivated is correct, and we cannot entirely discount the possibility that the motive lies elsewhere; then the most likely suspects are the Alptraums. The Stokers are partisans of the Leitdorfs, so they would have no reason to harm them, and Von Galt is too poor to be this mysterious patron. Tomorrow we shall call on the Alptraums to investigate Johan Alptraum's death; while there we shall see if we can determine if Max was in their employ."

They retired soon afterwards. Karl found that sleep would not come easily. Several times he got up and looked out the window seeking either sight or smell of their pursuer but there was nothing. Part of him hoped they had lost their unknown tracker so they could focus on their investigation. Another part of him wanted a confrontation. The man, whoever he was, doubtless had information that they would find useful. Besides, the wolf in him hated being hunted and longed to go head to head with the man.

The next morning Werner sent a message to the Alptraum estate explaining his business and requesting an audience. He explained that the Alptraums, and for that matter the Leidorfs, were simply too important to approach unannounced, letter from the Lord High Justice or no. The answer came an hour later in the form of a carriage bearing a page with orders to escort them to the Alptraum estate.

They were taken to a large country estate outside the walls. It was a grand estate, larger than Von Galt's and perfectly maintained. They walked through a large garden with decorative shrubbery and dotted with statuary of heroes of the Empire.

They were taken to a study where Fredrik Von Alptraum, the head of the family awaited them. He was a tall man; of middle years but still maintaining the hard muscles acquired by years of vigorous activity, dressed in the latest fashion. As they bowed he stroked his short, graying beard.

"I greet you," He said at last; "I am glad that you have come to uncover the truth of these murders."

"In deed," Werner said apologetically; "And though it pains me to have to do so; might I have you recount what happened the night your son died? I have read the Lord High Justice's file, of course, but I would be grateful for the account of someone who was there when the tragedy occurred."

"Indeed, very well; it was three weeks ago. My son was just getting ready to leave the house for the evening. There was a lecture being given about the Battle of Blackfire Pass, ever since he was young Johan wanted to be an officer of the state troops so he went to hear lectures on military history whenever possible.

"Just as he was heading towards the carriage he was attacked by three men, they must have hidden themselves in the shrubbery." Here Alptraum had to pause and take a deep breath before he could continue. "They threw him to the ground and stabbed him multiple times. I heard his cries and with my other son, Sebastian, we rushed out and tried to drive them off. Unfortunately, neither of us was armed and Sebastian received a deep cut on his arm."

"I must confess my amazement that either of you survived." Werner remarked.

"There was nothing amazing about it." Alptraum said with a snort. "If they had wanted to they could have killed us as well. But they didn't, they just kept us at bay till they were done with Johan; once it was clear he was dead they took to their heels."

"And you have no idea who they were, you could not describe them?" Werner asked.

Alptraum's face grew angry. "No, I could not describe them. The light was fading and they were hooded. But I have no doubt who sent them. Those damned Leidorfs! That pack of loons stole the title of Elector from my family and now that we seek to reclaim what is ours they resort to murder! I must confess I am surprised the Lord High Justice has you looking into my son's death. Everyone knows that he is in the Leidorfs' pocket."

Werner ignored that remark and instead asked; "If I may if that were the case, why didn't they kill you and your other son?"

This seemed to take the man off guard, he was silent for a moment then said lamely; "I have no idea."

"I see, do you know if your son had any enemies or undesirable friends?"

"No, he did not," the other man snapped angrily; "He was a well-behaved young man. I think I can see why you are here after all; you're here to make sure the Leidorfs are kept out of the whole affair. I think I have said all I am willing to say, good day."

As they walked towards the door they met a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Von Alptraum; though younger and running to fat. "Good day gentlemen. I trust Father wasn't too rude. Allow me to apologize on his behalf; my poor brother's death has weighed heavily on him."

"Think nothing of it." Werner said smiling. "And please, allow me to offer you my condolences on your tragic loose."

"I thank you sir." Sebastian said with a bow.

"Oh," said Werner, almost as an afterthought; "As you may know, we are investigating all of the recent deaths. While we were at the Stokers they mentioned a missing kitchen boy, Max I believe his name was, anyway they inferred he may have been hired by your family to perform some service. They even indicated that the poisoning of Maxwell Stoker was what he was being paid for."

At the mention Max Sebastian went stiff. When poison was mentioned, however, he relaxed. "Utter nonsense." He said indignantly. "As if we would do something so dishonorable, even to a family of jumped up tradesmen fawning over those lunatic Leidorfs."

"Glad to hear it. Knew there wasn't any truth in it of course, but you know how these things are. Well, I shan't keep you and longer; again my sympathies." With that they left the house.

As they walked back, Fredrik Von Alptraum making his displeasure known by not offering them the use of his carriage, they discussed the case.

"He was lying wasn't he, Sebastian I mean." Karl said.

"Oh, indeed he was," Werner agreed; "I fear that young man is not the conspirator his father is. So, now we can confirm that Max is, or at least was, in the pay of the Alptraums. But not, apparently, to murder a member of the Stoker house."

"Then what?" Karl asked.

"I do not know." Werner confessed.

As they walked towards the city gates their attention was caught by a commotion. In a field near the city a number of tents were being raised. They were unusual affairs, all made of brightly colored material. Erecting them were dark skinned men and women in similar bright colors. Something about them struck Karl as familiar but he couldn't place it.

"Who are they?" He asked Werner.

"Strigany, the wandering folk. They have no permanent home and wander from place to place, though it is unusual for them to come this far north, usually the stay farther south."

"I've heard of them." Karl interjected. "Aren't they supposed to be thieves and such?"

Werner sighed. "That is the popular belief; thieves and worse, and I dare say some of them are. That kind is to be found everywhere. More often than not they are simply strangers with strange customs and it is easier to blame such people for trouble."

Karl nodded; he was pretty much in the same boat if his secret were ever to come out. Still, he fell a little behind Werner and inhaled deeply with his nostrils. The wind was coming from them and carried their scent to him. They were a mixture of odd smells, many he could not place, but he did not smell any of the foul smells that he had smelled on the Beastmen or cultists. Satisfied he turned and hurried to catch up.

By the time they returned to the city it was about noon. They entered the first tavern they found and ordered sausages and beer. As they ate they went over what Fredrik Von Alptraum had told them and what they had learned from his son.

"Odd, the way they were just waiting for him like that, they ran an awful risk of being spotted didn't they?" How did they know when he was going out anyway?" Karl asked.

"Yes, it does seem that they took a great risk, I confess I cannot explain it. As too the second part there is several possible explanations. They could have been watching the house for some time waiting for an opportunity. They might have a spy among the servants who signaled them somehow when Johan was leaving the house.

"Of course there is the possibility that they were not targeting him specifically. Remember how Rohm said how these murders seem more targeted towards continuing the political feud, or even expanding it? This theory is borne out by what happened there. The attackers killed one member of the family that is all. They had the opportunity, if they had wanted to, to wipe out that entire branch of the family, effectively removing them from the game. Instead, they only ensure that things become more vicious as his father, and indeed all the other families as well, seek revenge. It is a puzzle."

After paying for their meal they left and headed back to their inn. As they went along Karl got an annoyingly familiar tingling in the back of his neck. "Our friend is back." He whispered under his breath.

"I know," Werner muttered back under his breath; "And he has brought some friends too."

Casting his gaze about Karl saw he was right. Scattered throughout the crowd were about half a dozen rough looking men. They were all clad in dirty cloths, one or two sporting vests of boiled leather, and all were clearly armed. They had the look of back alley toughs and they clearly knew their business. As they walked along they fanned out, some on either side, clearly trying to herd Karl and Werner somewhere quieter. Even as he considered his options Karl noticed that he did not smell their earlier follower among their potential assailants, he must have left the job to his friends.

"What do you want to do? " He said under his breath.

"We cannot hope to evade them; and I don't see any members of the Watch. There," he said, indicating an alley with his chin; "We'll go in there and turn and face them, hardly ideal but this way they all have to come at us from the front."

Karl nodded. As soon as they drew close to the alley they bolted towards it. As they ran down it they heard the sound of boots thundering in pursuit of them. At a signal from Werner they turned to face those chasing them. As they did Karl drew his sword and Werner produced a long knife from his robe.

Their sudden halt caused their pursuers to draw up short. For a moment they all stared at each other. For a moment Karl thought they might not attack, his sword gave him a longer reach and the alley was too narrow for them to take full advantage of their numbers.

Then the one who seemed to be the leader smiled, revealing yellowing teeth and not a few gaps. "Nice pig-sticker, but not a good choice for right now," turning back to his fellows he yelled; "Take 'em lads!"

The men rushed at them. Karl quickly found himself at a severe disadvantage and realized what the man had meant. While his sword gave him an advantage in reach; and in an open field would have been a far better weapon than their clubs and knives, in the narrow alley he did not have enough room to wield it properly. Also, he was used to fighting in wider areas, when he tried to move around he kept banging into things; while his opponents; all veteran street brawlers, took full advantage.

Soon he was sporting several bruises and cuts, in the half light of the alley they did not see the wounds healing. Karl soon found himself separated from Werner. Karl suddenly felt his breath cut short as a thin cord was wrapped around his neck. Dropping his sword he clawed at the cord but was unable to get his fingers under it. Forcing himself not to panic, he drove his elbow into the man's stomach; putting more than human strength into it.

He heard a whoosh of air as it was driven from the man's lungs and the cord went slack and air reentered his lungs. Grasping the cord he dropped down and lunged forward while pulling on the cord, dragging the man over him and dropping him on the ground in front of him. Karl promptly stomped down on the man so hard heard the man's skull crack under his boot.

Turning to look for Werner he found the man on the ground, blood flowing from his scalp; another of their attackers lay dead near him. Just then two of his attackers grabbed his arms while the leader and another of them came at him with knives, clearly intending to gut Karl. Suddenly the leader stiffened and Karl saw a thin trickle of blood running down the man's throat. He fell forward and Karl saw that a thin knife was sticking out of the back of the man's neck.

The fellow advancing spun around to try to locate the attacker. He was rewarded for his efforts with a second knife in his left eye. As he fell to the ground the man holding Karl's left arm suddenly released him with a strangled cry. He was suddenly hoisted several feet off of the ground and Karl saw that a noose had been let down from the building they were standing beside and then drawn taught.

Seizing the opportunity, Karl swung his now free arm in a punch that stunned his other attacker. With both arms now free he grabbed the man on both sides of his head and twisted till he heard the man's neck snap. He cast his gaze about looking for their benefactors but he and Werner were alone with the bodies in the alleyway.

Going up to the leader of the thugs' body he pulled the knife out. Wiping the blood off he tucked it into his belt, perhaps Werner would know something about it. Thinking of Werner he suddenly remembered the condition he had last seen the man in. Quickly he hurried over to the man.

Blood still dripped from the man's head but he was beginning to stir, groaning softly in pain. Karl tore of piece of cloth from the shirt of one of the bodies and wrapped it around Werner's scalp. Gently as he could he picked Werner up and headed back towards the street, he thought he remembered a temple of Shallya nearby, they would be able to properly dress Werner's injuries there, his own had already regenerated.

As he walked towards the street his nose caught a familiar smell. The smell of sweat, horses, tobacco and the countryside. It seemed their unknown friend was a bit friendlier than they had thought.

**Author's Notes: Hey, hoped you liked it, a little action for those who missed it. Strigany- are, as they sounded, based on Stereotype Gipsy and are as popular as their real-world ancestors of that time were for mostly the same reasons except these are also believed to be associated with vampires. As you can see one more chapter so onwards. ****. ****Please keep praying for Shawn, persecuted Christians, Saeed Abedini and everyone else who needs it, including Amir Hekmati, an American in poor health being held in Iran. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Notes: Hey everyone, glad people ate enjoying the story so far. As always Games Workshop owns the Warhammer world, I am just playing around in it.**

Karl carried Werner, who seemed to be regaining consciousness, to the temple at the end of the street. A plump priestess of about fifty met him at the entrance. Karl told her they had been attacked by footpads. She nodded and instructed him to take Werner to an inner room.

After a quick evaluation she stated that Werner's injury wasn't serious. After she and a novice cleaned and bandaged the wound the priestess asked if he had injuries that needed treating. He hastily assured her he did not, eager not have her see that, while his cloths were torn and bloodstained, he had no wounds. After receiving her assurance that Werner would be fine in a day or two Karl relaxed; still, he was determined not to take any chances of the attackers finishing the job with Werner. He would stay here until Werner was well enough to leave.

The residents of the temple seemed to understand, for no one bothered him, and a young novice brought him a bed roll. Determined not to waste this period of forced inactivity he determined to go over what they had learned and see if he could not answer some of the questions that had been plaguing them. So deciding, he sat down and began to think.

There had been five murders, all members of families competing for the title of Elector or their supporters. Yet so far none of those killed had actually been the ones competing for the title, indeed at the attack at the Alptraum estate, they had passed on just such an opportunity. The Lord High Justice had opined that the killings may be the work of an unknown party and the facts seemed to support this.

The Stokers, despite being allied with the Leitdorfs, had been in communication with that family's rival for reasons unknown. They were also eager to keep the existence of this activity secret. Till they could speak with the Leitdorfs he and Werner would not know if they knew of the Stokers activates.

The Alptraums were up to something that much was obvious. For reasons he and Werner did not know they had employed a servant in the Stoker to engage in some activity which was also unknown. But it had to be something big, as the boy had clearly been promised both money and patronage for performing it. Karl wished they knew what that activity was, indeed, they did not even know if he had done whatever it was that he had been hired to do.

They had an unknown person tailing them for an unknown purpose. As Karl that about that man he began to entertain the notion that there was, in fact, more than one person following them. The first individual that they had sensed following them had been cautious, hanging back and even ceasing to follow them when he realized he had been detected. While the man he had seen had boldly followed him into an alley, exactly the opposite of how their earlier pursuer had acted.

Next there was the attack. His discounted the possibility that the men were just common footpads; they had clearly targeted Karl and Werner, disregarding easier marks. Karl briefly considered that these men might be the assassins they sought, and then dismissed that idea. While the numbers were right the weapons were not. These men were armed with clubs, knives, short swords and at least one garrote, not the curved blades that had been used in the killings.

Finally, there was the unexpected intervention of their mysterious friend in the fight. No, not friend, friends, there had been at least two in the fight. The thrown knives and the noose; there was no way for someone to move fast enough to have used both, so the man had a friend. Karl wondered if this new person was their stalker from earlier.

"The next morning Werner was fully awake. He declared himself recovered and ready to resume the investigation. The abbess, however, would have none of that and declared that he must remain in bed and rest for at least two days. Seeing as how she would not budge on the issue Werner consented. He then called Karl in and suggested that while he rested Karl should attempt to learn from the Watch anything he could about their attackers.

So Karl sought out the Watchmen stationed closest to where the fight had occurred. At first they were unwilling to talk to him; at which point he produced the letter with the Lord High Justices Seal, which Werner had entrusted him with. From the now more talkative Watchmen he learned that the men in question, while having worked for many of the gangs in the city, were not members of any. Rather they were just low-level muscle for hire, willing to work for anyone who would pay, and were often hired as cheap extra muscle.

Not wanting to go back to the temple, which would mean having to report a dead-end and the spending the day fidgeting, he decided to do a little investigating on his own. Heading back to the upper-class section of the city he found a place of concealment near the Stoker house and settled in to watch, he doubted anything would occur before dark but he wanted to be there just in case. Hours passed and the sun slowly set and night settled on the city.

Karl suddenly detected movement; a carriage was coming from the back of the house. He allowed it to get a bit of a start on him and then followed. There was not much in the way of traffic on the streets after dark so he had no difficulty in trailing it. He was nearly spotted once, however. Rounding a corner he saw three Watchmen coming towards him. Lacking his werewolf eyes, they had not yet seen him and he quickly darted into an alley till they had passed.

This allowed the carriage to get further ahead than Karl liked and he had to hurry to catch up. To avoid being delayed by having to hide again he climbed up and ran along the rooftops. This kept him relatively safe from detection, as long as he refrained from making too much noise. Even if he was seen he would hopefully only be thought a burglar and would not concern those in the carriage.

Eventually the carriage pulled to a halt. Karl was not surprised to see it was in front of the Von Galt estate. As the carriage came to a halt the front door opened and a young man, Karl recalled his name was Hector, came out with a lantern. From the carriage a man got out, Karl instantly recognized Franz, the missing hand being a dead giveaway.

Once he had dismounted her turned back to assist someone else out. The person he was assisting was shorter than he and wore a dress and a hooded cloak that hid her face. Even at a distance Karl could smell her, an unpleasant mixture of too much perfume and fear. She clung to Franz as a third figure got out and joined them. This one also wore a dress and hood but no perfume; and Karl didn't smell fear on her. Franz pried himself lose from the first woman and handed her off to the second one, instantly the first latched onto the second instead. With Hector leading the way they all went inside and the door closed behind them.

Karl wasn't sure how long they were inside, but it wasn't long, less than half an hour he was sure. Then the door opened and the three exited. The one woman was still clinging to the other and the smell of fear was greater. They all entered the carriage and departed.

Again Karl followed them but they went straight back to the Stoker home and went inside. For some time Karl watched but the lights went went out and there was no further movement. An hour before sunrise Karl was just about to head back to the temple to get some rest before reporting to Werner what he had seen when he caught a scent on the wind. It was the scent of the second woman he had followed earlier.

His immediately set off, following the smell. He soon saw her; she was heading down a side street towards the lower class section of the city. He followed at a distance; he didn't need to see her to track her, though he did try to keep her in sight.

Eventually the buildings became unevenly spaced and sized and Karl had to drop down to the street to continue on foot. This caused him to lose sight of quarry and by the time he caught up with her she had gotten into trouble. Two men, by their smell and appearance drunks, had confronted her. One had grabbed her arms while the other was reaching for her cloak.

Before Karl could do anything the woman brought her foot down on the bare foot of the one holding her. The man yelped and let go of her. She then rammed her elbow into his stomach, causing him to double over. Just then the second man grabbed her hood. She jerked around; her fingers hooked like claws, and raked his face, drawing lines of blood. During this her hood had come off, revealing the dark, curly head of Esmeralda.

Her had shot into her bodice and came out with a thin dagger. This she wielded with the skill of a veteran knife-fighter; and soon the man was in retreat, blood spurting from numerous cuts on his arms and hands. She then turned back to the other man, who was just beginning to get his breath back. She grabbed his hair with both hands and brought his head down to meet her rapidly rising knee.

Even at a distance Karl could hear the man's nose breaking. Blood poured from his nose and he collapsed to the ground clutching his bloody nose. Esmeralda, who was not even breathing hard, turned without giving the man a second glance and continued on her way.

She did not go much farther. She soon came to a corner near a tanner's shop, the smell of which threatened to overwhelm Karl's nose. She seemed to be waiting for something or someone, glancing up and down the alleys and streets. Not wanting to be seen Karl deftly jumped onto a nearby roof. Just as he settled down behind a chimney he heard the sound of someone approaching. Soon so did Esmeralda, she turned and hurried toward the sound. Soon a man came down a street and Esmeralda threw herself into his arms and they embraced warmly. Like her he wore a hood and cloak so Karl could not see him, but he did not need to, even so near the tanner his smell was recognizable. It was their friendly stalker and unexpected ally.

**Author's Notes: Hey everyone, well, three chapters I hoped you liked them, got bit by the writing bug. Bit short I know, next will be longer, any theories yet as to what is going on? A few answers will be in the next chapter.** **Please keep praying for Shawn, persecuted Christians, Saeed Abedini and everyone else who needs it, including Amir Hekmati, an American in poor health being held in Iran. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all.**


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